,-35^-' 


I 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/canniballandadveOOjohnrich 


MEN  OF  ESPIRITU  SANTO 


CANNIBAL -LAND 

Adventures  with  a  Camera 
in  the  Kew  Hebrides 

BY  :    : 

MARTIN  JOHNSON 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    FROM 
THE  author's  photographs 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

Q[^i)e  3atben(tlie  $res(£(  Camtittlige 

1922 


COPYRIGHT,    1 92 1,  BY  ASIA  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,    1922,   BY  MARTIN  JOHNSON 


0^. 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


f^WuMiA 


CAMBRIDGE   •   MASSACHl^SETTS 
PRINTED  IN  THE  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 

Prologue  3 

I.  Introducing  Nagapate  6 

II.  Sydney  and  New  Caledonia  23 

III.  The  Threshold  of  Cannibal-Land  39 

IV.  Nagapate  comes  to  call  49 

V.  In  Nagapate's  Kingdom  71 

VI.  The  Big  Numbers  see  themselves  on 

THE  Screen  94 

VII.  The  Noble  Savage  100 

VIII.  Good-bye  to  Nagapate  116 

IX.  The  Monkey  People  123 

X.  The  Dance  of  the  Painted  Savages  138 

XL   TOMMAN  AND  THE  HeAD-CuRING  ArT  152 

XII.  The  White  Man  in  the  South  Seas  161 
XIII.  EspiRiTu  Santo  and  a  Cannibal  Feast     175 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Men  of  Espiritu  Santo  Frontispiece 

The  Watcher  of  Tanemarou  Bay  14 

Nagapate  18 

A  Beach  Scene  24 

Looking  Seaward  36 

Dance  of  Tethlong's  Men  46 

A  Call  from  Nagapate  62 

The  Safe  Beach  Trail,  Tanemarou  Bay  68 

Looking  over  Nagapate's  Kingdom  from  the 

Highest  Peak  in  Northern  Malekula  74 

Women  of  the  Big  Numbers  78 

Rambi  84 

Atree  and  Nagapate  88 

Hunting  for  the  Magic  98 

A  Cannibal  and  a  Kodak  98 

Nagapate  among  the  Devil-Devils  110 

One  of  the  Monkey  Men  128 

wo-bang-an-ar  134 

Southwest  Bay  138 


viii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Woman  and  Child  of  the  Long-Heads,  Tom- 
man  142 

The  Painted  Dancers  of  Southwest  Bay  148 

The  Old  Head-Curer  I54 

A   Club-House   in   Tomman   with   Mummied 
Heads  and  Bodies  I53 

Tomman  Women,  showing  Gap  in  Teeth  162 

Dwarfs  OF  EspiRiTu  Santo  182 

The  Cannibal  Dance  188 


CANNIBAL-LAND 


CANNIBAL-LAND 


PROLOGUE 

Twelve  years  ago,  from  the  deck  of  the  Snark,  I  had 
my  first  gHmpse  of  the  New  Hebrides. 

I  was  standing  my  trick  at  the  wheel.  Jack  Lon- 
don and  his  wife,  Charmian,  were  beside  me.  It  was 
just  dawn.  Slowly,  out  of  the  morning  mists,  an  is- 
land took  shape.  The  little  ship  rose  and  sank  on  the 
Pacific  swell.  The  salt  breeze  ruffled  my  hair.  I 
played  my  trick  calmly  and  in  silence,  but  my  heart 
beat  fast  at  the  sight  of  that  bit  of  land  coming  up 
like  magic  out  of  the  gray  water. 

For  I  knew  that  of  all  the  groups  in  the  South 
Seas,  the  New  Hebrides  were  held  to  be  the  wildest. 
They  were  inhabited  by  the  fiercest  of  cannibals. 
On  many  of  the  islands,  white  men  had  scarcely 
trod.  Vast,  unknown  areas  remained  to  be  explored. 
I  thrilled  at  the  thought  of  facing  danger  in  the 
haunts  of  savage  men, 

I  was  young  then.  But  my  longing  for  adventure 
in  primitive  lands  has  never  left  me.  News  of  a  wild 


4  CANNIBAL-LAND 

country,  of  unvisited  tribes,  still  thrills  me  and 
makes  me  restless  to  be  off  in  some  old  South  Seas 
schooner,  seeing  life  as  it  was  lived  in  Europe  in  the 
Stone  Age  and  is  still  lived  in  out-of-the-way  cor- 
ners of  the  earth  that  civilization  has  overlooked. 

I  have  been  luckier  than  most  men.  For  my  life- 
work  has  made  my  youthful  dreams  come  true. 

On  my  first  voyage,  in  the  Snark,  I  met  with  a 
couple  of  pioneer  motion-picture  men,  who  were 
packing  up  the  South  Seas  in  films  to  take  back  to 
Europe  and  America.  They  inspired  in  me  the  idea 
of  making  a  picture-record  of  the  primitive,  fast-dy- 
ing black  and  brown  peoples  that  linger  in  remote 
spots.  Into  my  boyish  love  of  adventure  there  crept 
a  purpose  that  has  kept  me  wandering  and  will  keep 
me  wandering  until  I  die. 

Two  years  ago,  I  again  found  myself  in  the  New 
Hebrides  at  dawn.  London  had  taken  the  last  long 
voyage  alone;  and  the  little  Snark,  so  white  and 
pretty  when  we  had  sailed  it  south,  hung  sluggishly 
at  anchor  in  Api,  black  and  stained,  and  wet  and 
slimy  under  the  bare  feet  of  a  crew  of  blacks.  My 
boat  now  was  a  twenty-eight-foot  open  whaleboat, 
with  a  jury  rig  of  jib  and  mainsail;  my  crew  of  five, 
squatting  in  the  waist,  looking  silently  at  us  or  cast- 


PROLOGUE  5 

ing  glances,  sometimes  down  at  the  water,  some- 
times with  sudden  jerks  of  the  head  upward  at  the 
little  mast,  like  monkeys  under  a  coconut  tree,  were 
naked  savages  from  Vao;  and  my  companion,  seated 
on  the  thwart  beside  me,  was  my  wife,  Osa.  We 
were  nearing  the  cannibal  island  of  Malekula. 

But  to  start  the  story  of  our  adventures  in  Male- 
kula at  the  beginning,  I  must  go  back  and  describe 
the  reconnoitering  trip  we  took  fourteen  months 
earlier. 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE 

OsA  and  I  were  nearing  the  end  of  a  long  cruise 
through  the  South  Seas.  We  had  come  in  contact 
with  many  wild  peoples,  but  none  of  them  were 
quite  wild  enough.  I  had  made  motion-pictures  of 
cannibals  in  the  Solomons.  They  were  bona-fide  can- 
nibals, fierce  and  naked.  But  somehow,  I  never 
quite  felt  that  they  were  the  real  thing :  they  so  ob- 
viously respected  the  English  Government  officers 
and  native  police  boys  who  accompanied  and  pro- 
tected us.  I  wanted  to  get  among  savages  who  were 
unspoiled  —  to  make  photographs  showing  them  in 
their  own  villages,  engaged  in  their  ordinary  pur- 
suits. I  felt  sure,  from  what  I  had  seen  and  heard 
and  read,  that  the  pictures  I  wanted  were  waiting  to 
be  taken  in  the  New  Hebrides  and  nowhere  else. 

Savagery  has  been  pretty  well  eliminated  from  the 
South  Seas.  The  Solomon  Islander  is  well  on  the 
road  to  becoming  a  respectable  citizen  of  the  British 
Empire.  Most  of  the  Fiji  Islanders  have  left  off  can- 
nibalism and  have  settled  down  and  turned  Method- 
ist.  If  you  except  New  Guinea  and  Borneo,  the 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  7 

New  Hebrides  are  probably  the  only  islands  in  the 
Pacific  where  there  are  natives  who  live  as  they  did 
before  the  white  man's  coming. 

The  savages  of  the  New  Hebrides  probably  owe 
their  immunity  from  civilization  to  an  accident  of 
government.  For  many  years  the  ownership  of  the 
islands  was  disputed.  Both  British  and  French  laid 
claim  to  them.  Neither  would  relinquish  hold;  so 
finally,  they  arranged  to  administer  the  islands 
jointly  until  a  settlement  should  be  made.  That  set- 
tlement has  been  pending  for  years.  Meanwhile, 
both  governments  have  been  marking  time.  Each 
party  is  slow  to  take  action  for  fear  of  infringing  on 
the  rights  —  or  of  working  for  the  benefit  —  of  the 
other.  Each  maintains  but  a  small  armed  force.  The 
entire  protection  of  the  group  consists  of  about  sixty 
or  seventy  police  boys,  backed  up  by  the  gunboats 
which  make  occasional  tours  of  the  group.  It  is  easy 
to  understand  that  this  is  not  an  adequate  civilizing 
force  for  a  part  of  the  world  where  civilizing  is  gener- 
ally done  at  the  point  of  a  rifle,  and  that  the  savages 
of  the  more  inaccessible  parts  of  the  group  are  as 
unsubdued  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  the  early 
explorers. 

I  had  heard  that  there  were  parts  of  the  island  of 


8  CANNIBAL-LAND 

Malekula,  the  second  largest  island  of  the  group, 
that  no  white  man  had  ever  trod,  so  I  decided  that 
Malekula  was  the  island  I  wanted  to  visit.  "The 
Pacific  Islands  Pilot,"  which  I  had  among  my  books, 
gave  a  solemn  warning  against  the  people  of  Male- 
kula that  served  only  to  whet  my  interest: 

"Although  an  appearance  of  friendly  confidence 
will  often  tend  to  allay  their  natural  feeling  of  dis- 
trust, strangers  would  do  well  to  maintain  a  constant 
watchfulness  and  use  every  precaution  against  being 
taken  by  surprise."  So  said  the  "Pilot."  ".  .  .  They 
are  a  wild,  savage  race  and  have  the  reputation  of  be- 
ing treacherous.  .  .  .  Cannibalism  is  still  occasion- 
ally practiced.  Nearly  all  are  armed  with  Snyders. 
The  bushmen  live  entirely  among  the  hills  in  small 
villages  and  are  seldom  seen.  Being  practically  se- 
cure from  punishment,  they  have  not  the  same  rea- 
sons for  good  behavior  that  the  salt-water  men 
have,  and  should,  therefore,  be  always  treated  with 
caution." 

A  recruiter  who  had  been  for  years  in  the  New 
Hebrides  enlisting  blacks  for  service  in  the  Solomons 
described  Malekula  to  me  in  detail.  It  was  a  large 
island,  as  my  map  showed  me,  shaped  roughly  like 
an  hour-glass,  about  sixty  miles  long  and  about  ten 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  9 

miles  across  in  the  middle  and  thirty-five  or  so  at 
the  ends.  He  said  that  there  were  supposed  to  be 
about  forty  thousand  savages  on  the  island,  most  of 
them  hidden  away  in  the  bush.  The  northern  part  of 
the  island  was  shared  between  the  Big  Numbers  and 
the  Small  Numbers  people,  who  took  their  names 
from  the  nambas,  the  garment  —  if  it  could  be  called 
a  garment  —  worn  by  the  men.  In  the  case  of  the 
Small  Numbers,  said  my  informant,  it  was  a  twisted 
leaf.  In  the  case  of  the  Big  Numbers,  it  was  a  bunch 
of  dried  pandanus  fiber.  The  recruiter  said  that 
the  central  part  of  the  island  was  supposed  to  be 
inhabited  by  a  race  of  nomads,  though  he  himself 
had  never  seen  any  one  who  had  come  in  contact 
with  them.  In  the  southern  region  lived  a  long- 
headed people,  with  skulls  curiously  deformed  by 
binding  in  infancy. 

Of  all  these  peoples  the  Big  Numbers  were  said  to 
be  the  fiercest.  Both  British  and  French  had  under- 
taken "armed  administrations"  in  their  territory, 
in  an  attempt  to  pacify  them,  but  had  succeeded 
only  in  sacrificing  a  man  for  every  savage  .they 
had  killed.  No  white  man  had  ever  established 
himself  upon  the  territory  of  the  Big  Numbers  and 
none  had  ever  crossed  it.    I  decided  to  attempt 


10  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  crossing  myself  and  to  record  the  feat  with  my 
cameras. 

Every  one  to  whom  I  mentioned  this  project  ad- 
vised me  against  it.  I  was  warned  that  experienced 
recruiters  of  labor  for  the  white  man's  sugar  and 
rubber  plantations,  who  knew  the  islands  and  the 
natives  well,  never  landed  upon  the  beach  unless 
they  had  a  second,  "covering"  boat  with  an  armed 
crew  to  protect  them  against  treachery,  and  that  the 
most  daring  trader  planned  to  stop  there  only  for  a 
day  —  though  perforce  he  often  stayed  for  all  eter- 
nity. But  I  had  the  courage  born  of  ignorance,  and 
ventured  boldly,  taking  it  for  granted  that  the  tales 
told  of  the  savages  were  wildly  exaggerated.  Trad- 
ers, missionaries,  and  Government  officials  all  joined 
in  solemn  warning  against  the  undertaking,  but 
as  none  of  them  had  ever  seen  a  cannibal  in  ac- 
tion, I  did  not  take  their  advice  seriously.  When 
they  found  that  I  was  determined  in  my  course,  they 
gave  me  all  the  assistance  in  their  power. 

My  recruiter  friend  suggested  that  I  make  my 
headquarters  on  Vao,  a  small  island  about  a  mile  oflF 
the  northeastern  coast  of  Malekula,  where  a  mission 
station  was  maintained  by  the  French  fathers.  He 
said  that  between  the  mission  and  the  British  gun- 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  11 

boat,  which  stopped  there  regularly,  the  natives  of 
Vao  had  become  fairly  peaceable,  we  would  be  safe 
there,  and  at  the  same  time  would  be  in  easy  reach 
of  Malekula. 

Osa  and  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  Vao,  where 
Father  Prin,  an  aged  priest,  welcomed  us  cordially, 
and  set  aside  for  us  one  of  the  three  rooms  in  his  little 
stone  house.  Father  Prin  had  kind,  beautiful  eyes 
and  a  venerable  beard.  He  looked  like  a  saint,  in  his 
black  cassock,  and  when  we  had  a  chance  to  look 
about  at  the  degenerate  creatures  among  whom  he 
lived,  we  thought  that  he  must,  indeed,  be  one.  He 
had  spent  twenty-nine  years  in  the  South  Seas.  Dur- 
ing the  greater  part  of  that  time  he  had  worked 
among  the  four  hundred  savages  of  Vao.  The  net  re- 
sult of  his  activities  was  a  clearing,  in  which  were 
a  stone  church  and  the  stone  parsonage  and  the 
thatched  huts  of  seventeen  converts.  The  converts 
themselves  did  not  count  for  much,  even  in  Father 
Prin's  eyes.  He  had  learned  that  the  task  of  bring- 
ing the  New  Hebridean  native  out  of  savagery  was 
well-nigh  hopeless.  He  knew  that,  once  he  had  left 
his  little  flock,  it  would  imdoubtedly  lapse  into 
heathenism.  The  faith  and  perseverance  he  showed 
was  a  marvel  to  me.  I  shall  always  respect  him  and 


12  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  other  missionaries  who  work  araong  the  natives 
of  Vao  and  Malekula  for  the  grit  they  show  in  a  los- 
ing fight.  I  have  never  seen  a  native  Christian  on 
either  of  the  islands  —  and  I  've  never  met  any  one 
who  has  seen  one ! 

When  he  learned  that  we  were  bent  on  visiting 
Malekula,  Father  Prin  added  his  word  of  warning  to 
the  many  that  I  had  received.  Though  he  could 
speak  many  native  languages,  his  English  was  lim- 
ited to  heche-de-mer,  the  pidgin  English  of  the  South 
Seas.  In  this  grotesque  tongue,  which  consorted  so 
strangely  with  his  venerable  appearance,  he  told  us 
that  we  would  never  trust  ourselves  among  the  na- 
tives if  we  had  any  real  understanding  of  their  cru- 
elty. He  said  he  was  convinced  that  cannibalism  was 
practiced  right  on  Vao,  though  the  natives,  for  fear 
of  the  British  gunboat,  were  careful  not  to  be  dis- 
covered. He  cited  hair-raising  incidents  of  poison- 
ings and  mutilations.  He  told  us  to  look  around 
among  the  savages  of  Vao.  We  would  discover  very 
few  if  any  old  folk,  for  the  natives  had  the  cruel  cus- 
tom of  burying  the  aged  alive.  He  had  done  every- 
thing he  could  to  eradicate  this  custom,  but  to  no 
end.  He  told  us  of  one  old  woman  whom  he  had  ex- 
humed three  times,  but  who  had  finally,  in  spite  of 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  13 

his  efforts,  met  a  cruel  death  by  suffocation.  Once, 
he  had  succeeded  in  rescuing  an  old  man  from  death 
by  the  simple  expedient  of  carrying  him  off  and  put- 
ting him  into  a  hut  next  to  his  own  house,  where  he 
could  feed  him  and  look  after  him.  A  few  days  after 
the  old  man  had  been  installed,  a  body  of  natives 
came  to  the  clearing  and  asked  permission  to  ex- 
amine him.  They  looked  at  his  teeth  to  see  if  he 
had  grown  valuable  tusks;  they  fingered  his  rough, 
withered  skin;  they  felt  his  skinny  limbs;  they  lifted 
his  frail,  helpless  carcass  in  their  arms;  and  finally 
they  burst  into  yells  of  laughter.  They  said  the 
missionary  had  been  fooled  —  there  was  not  a 
thing  about  the  old  man  worth  saving!  We  could 
not  look  for  mercy  or  consideration  from  such  men 
as  these,  said  Father  Prin.  But  despite  his  warn- 
ing, Osa  and  I  sailed  away  to  visit  the  grim  island. 
With  the  assistance  of  Father  Prin,  we  secured 
a  twenty-eight-foot  whaleboat  that  belonged  to  a 
trader  who  made  his  headquarters  on  Vao,  but  was 
now  absent  on  a  recruiting  trip,  leaving  his  "store" 
in  charge  of  his  native  wife.  With  the  aid  of  five  Vao 
boys,  recommended  by  Father  Prin  as  being  prob- 
ably trustworthy,  we  hoisted  a  small  jib  and  a 
mainsail,  scarcely  larger,  and  were  off. 


14  CANNIBAL-LAND 

At  the  last  moment.  Father  Prin's  grave  face 
awoke  misgivings  in  me  and  I  tried  to  dissuade  Osa 
from  accompanying  me.  Father  Prin  sensed  the 
drift  of  our  conversation  and  made  his  final  plea. 

"Better  you  stop  along  Vao,"  he  urged.  "Bush 
too  bad."  His  eyes  were  anxious.  But  Osa  was  not 
to  be  dissuaded.  "If  you  go,  I'm  going,  too,"  she 
said,  turning  to  me,  and  that  was  final. 

We  landed  at  a  point  on  the  Vao  side  of  Malekula, 
where  there  were  one  or  two  salt-water  villages, 
whose  inhabitants  had  learned  to  respect  gunboats. 
We  picked  up  three  boys  to  serve  as  guides  and  car- 
riers and  then  sailed  on  to  Tanemarou  Bay,  in  the 
Big  Numbers  territory.  The  shores  along  which  we 
traveled  were  rocky.  Occasionally  we  saw  a  group 
of  natives  on  the  beach,  but  they  disappeared  as  we 
approached.  These  were  no  salt-water  savages,  but 
fierce  bushmen.  Their  appearance  was  not  reassur- 
ing; but  when  we  reached  Tanemarou  Bay,  we 
boldly  went  ashore.  We  were  greeted  by  a  solitary 
savage  who  stepped  out  of  the  darkness  of  the  jungle 
into  the  glaring  brightness  of  the  beach.  He  was  a 
frightful  object  to  behold,  black  and  dirty,  with 
heavy,  lumpy  muscles,  and  an  outstanding  shock  of 
greasy  hair.  Except  for  a  clout  of  dried  pandanus 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  15 

fiber,  a  gorget  of  pig's  teeth,  and  the  pigtails  that 
dangled  from  his  ear-lobes,  he  was  entirely  naked. 
As  he  approached,  we  saw  that  his  dull,  shifty  eyes 
were  liquid;  his  hairy,  deeply  seamed  face  was  con- 
torted frightfully;  and  his  hands  were  pressed  tight 
against  his  stomach.  Osa  shrank  close  to  me.  But  the 
first  words  of  the  native,  uttered  in  almost  unintelli- 
gible beche-de-mer,  were  pacific  enough.  "My  word! 
Master!  Belly  belong  me  walk  about  too  much!" 

The  nervous  tension  that  Osa  and  I  had  both  felt 
snapped,  and  we  burst  out  laughing.  I  saw  a  chance 
to  make  a  friend,  so  I  fished  out  a  handful  of  cascara 
tablets  and  carefully  explained  to  the  native  the  ex- 
act properties  of  the  medicine.  I  made  it  perfectly 
clear  —  so  I  thought  —  that  part  of  the  tablets  were 
to  be  taken  at  dawn  and  part  at  sunset.  He  listened 
with  painful  attention,  but  the  moment  I  stopped 
speaking  he  lifted  the  whole  handful  of  pills  to  his 
slobbering  lips  and  downed  them  at  a  gulp ! 

By  this  time  we  were  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
savages,  each  as  terrible-looking  as  our  first  visitor. 
As  they  made  no  effort  to  molest  us,  however,  we 
gained  confidence.  I  set  up  a  camera  and  ground  out 
several  hundred  feet  of  film.  They  had  never  seen  a 
motion-picture  camera  before,  but,  as  is  often  the 


16  CANNIBAL-LAND 

way  with  savages,  after  a  first  casual  inspection,  they 
showed  a  real,  or  pretended,  indifference  to  what 
they  could  not  understand. 

Through  the  talented  sufferer  who  knew  beche-de- 
mer,  I  learned  that  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  Nagapate, 
was  a  short  distance  away  in  the  bush,  and  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  never  thinking  of  danger,  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  see  him.  Guided  by  a  small 
boy,'^Osa  and  I  plunged  into  the  dark  jungle,  fol- 
lowed by  our  three  carriers  with  my  photographic 
apparatus.  We  slid  and  stumbled  along  a  trail  made 
treacherous  by  miry  streams  and  slimy  creepers  and 
up  sharp  slopes  covered  with  tough  canes.  At  last 
we  found  ourselves  in  a  clearing  about  three  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea. 

From  where  we  stood  we  could  see,  like  a  little  dot 
upon  the  blue  of  the  ocean,  our  whaleboat  hanging 
offshore.  The  scene  was  calm  and  beautiful.  The 
brown-green  slopes  were  silent,  except  for  the  sharp 
metallic  calls  of  birds.  But  we  knew  that  there  were 
men  hidden  in  the  wild,  by  the  faint,  thin  wisps  of 
smoke  that  we  could  see  here  and  there  above  the 
trees.  Each  marked  a  savage  camp-fire.  "That's 
where  they're  cooking  the  'long  pig,'"  I  said  joc- 
ularly, pointing  the  smoke  wisps  out  to  Osa.   But 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  17 

a  moment  later  my  remark  did  not  seem  so  funny. 
I  heard  a  sound  and  turned  and  saw  standing  in 
the  trail  four  armed  savages,  with  their  guns  aimed 
at  us. 

"Let's  get  out  of  this,"  I  said  to  Osa;  but  when  we 
attempted  to  go  down  the  trail,  the  savages  inter- 
cepted us  with  threatening  gestures.  Suddenly  there 
burst  into  view  the  most  frightful,  yet  finest  type  of 
savage  I  have  ever  seen.  We  knew  without  being 
told  that  this  was  Nagapate  himself.  His  every  ges- 
ture was  chiefly. 

He  was  enormously  tall,  and  his  powerful  muscles 
rippled  under  his  skin,  glossy  in  the  sunlight.  He  was 
very  black;  his  features  were  large;  his  expression 
showed  strong  will  and  the  cunning  and  brutal 
power  of  a  predatory  animal.  A  fringe  of  straight 
outstanding  matted  hair  completely  encircled  his 
face;  his  skin,  though  glossy  and  healthy-looking, 
was  creased  and  thick,  and  between  his  brows  were 
two  extraordinarily  deep  furrows.  On  his  fingers 
were  four  gold  rings  that  could  only  have  come  from 
the  hands  of  his  victims. 

I  thought  I  might  win  this  savage  to  friendliness, 
so  I  got  out  some  trade-stuflF  I  had  brought  with  me 
and  presented  it  to  him.  He  scarcely  glanced  at  it. 


18  CANNIBAL-LAND 

He  folded  his  arms  on  his  breast  and  stared  at  us 
speculatively.  I  looked  around.  From  among  the 
tall  grasses  of  the  clearing,  there  peered  black  and 
cruel  faces,  all  watching  us  in  silence.  There  were 
easily  a  hundred  savages  there.  For  the  present  there 
was  no  escape  possible.  I  decided  that  my  only 
course  was  to  pretend  a  cool  indifference,  so  I  got  out 
my  cameras  and  worked  as  rapidly  as  possible,  talk- 
ing to  the  savages  and  to  Osa  as  if  I  were  completely 
ax  ease. 

I  soon  saw,  however,  that  we  must  get  away  if  we 
were  not  to  be  caught  by  darkness.  I  made  a  last 
show  of  assurance  by  shaking  hands  in  farewell  with 
Nagapate.  Osa  followed  my  example;  but  instead  of 
releasing  her,  the  savage  chief  held  her  firmly  with 
one  hand  and  ran  the  other  over  her  body.  He  felt 
her  cheeks  and  her  hair  and  pinched  and  prodded  her 
speculatively 

She  was  pale  with  fright.  I  would  have  shot  the 
savage  on  the  spot,  but  I  knew  that  such  a  fool- 
hardy act  would  mean  instant  death  to  both  of  us.  I 
clenched  my  hands,  forced  to  my  lips  what  I  hoped 
would  pass  for  an  amused  grin,  and  stood  pat.  After 
a  moment  that  seemed  to  both  Osa  and  me  an  hour 
long,  Nagapate  released  Osa  and  grunted  an  order  at 


NAGAPATE 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  19 

the  savages  who  surrounded  us.  They  disappeared 
into  the  bush.  This  was  our  opportunity.  I  ordered 
the  three  carriers  to  pick  up  the  apparatus,  and  we 
started  for  the  trail. 

We  had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  we  were 
seized  from  behind.  We  had  no  chance  to  struggle. 

In  the  minutes  that  followed,  I  suffered  the  most 
terrible  mental  torture  I  have  ever  experienced.  I 
saw  only  one  slim  chance  for  us.  Osa  and  I  each  car- 
ried two  revolvers  in  our  breeches'  pockets;  so  far, 
the  savages  had  not  discovered  them,  and  I  hoped 
there  might  come  some  opportunity  to  use  them. 
Every  ghastly  tale  I  had  ever  heard  came  crowding 
into  my  memory;  and  as  I  looked  at  the  ring  of  black, 
merciless  faces,  and  saw  my  wife  sagging,  half- 
swooning,  in  the  arms  of  her  cannibal  captors,  my 
heart  almost  stopped  its  beating. 

At  this  moment  a  miracle  happened. 

Into  the  bay  far  below  us  steamed  the  Euphros- 
yne,  the  British  patrol-boat.  It  came  to  anchor  and 
a  ship's  boat  was  lowered.  The  savages  were  star- 
tled. From  lip  to  lip  an  English  word  was  passed, 
"  Man-o'-war  —  Man-o'-war  —  Man-o'-war."  With 
an  assumption  of  satisfaction  and  confidence  that  I 
did  not  feel,  I  tried  to  make  it  clear  to  them  that  this 


20  CANNIBAL-LAND 

ship  had  come  to  protect  us,  though  I  knew  that  at 
any  moment  it  might  up  anchor  and  steam  away 
again.  Nagapate  grunted  an  order,  my  carriers 
picked  up  their  loads,  and  we  were  permitted  to 
start  down  the  trail.  Once  out  of  sight  we  began  to 
run.  The  cane-grass  cut  our  faces,  we  slipped  on  the 
steep  path,  but  still  we  ran. 

Halfway  down,  we  came  to  an  open  place  from 
which  we  could  see  the  bay.  To  our  consternation, 
the  patrol -boat  was  putting  out  to  sea!  We  knew 
that  the  savages,  too,  had  witnessed  its  departure; 
for  at  once,  from  hill  to  hill,  sounded  the  vibrant  roar 
of  the  conch-shell  boo-boos  —  a  message  to  the  sav- 
ages on  the  beach  to  intercept  us. 

The  sun  was  near  setting.  We  hurried  forward; 
Soon  we  found  that  we  had  lost  the  trail.  Darkness 
came  down,  and  we  struggled  through  the  jungle  in 
a  nightmare  of  fear.  Thorns  tore  our  clothing  and 
our  flesh.  We  slipped  and  fell  a  hundred  times. 
Every  jungle  sound  filled  us  with  terror. 

But  at  last,  after  what  seemed  hours,  we  reached 
the  beach.  We  stole  toward  the  water,  hopeful  of  es- 
caping notice,  but  the  savages  caught  sight  of  us. 
Fortunately  our  Vao  boys,  who  had  been  lying  off  in 
the  whaleboat,  sighted  us,  too,  and  poled  rapidly  in 


INTRODUCING  NAGAPATE  21 

to  our  assistance.  We  splashed  into  the  surf  and  the 
boys  dragged  us  into  the  boat,  where  we  lay,  ex- 
hausted and  weak  with  fear. 

It  took  us  three  days  to  get  back  to  Vao,  but  that 
nightmare  story  of  storm  and  terror  does  not  belong 
here.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  at  last  got  back  safely 
and  with  my  film  unharmed. 

On  my  return  to  Vao,  one  of  the  native  boatmen 
presented  me  with  a  letter,  which  had  been  left  for 
me  at  Tanemarou  Bay,  by  the  commander  of  the 
patrol-boat,  who  had  been  assured  by  our  boys  that 
we  were  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  beach  and 
were  about  to  return  to  the  boat. 

Matanavot,  10th  Noverriber,  1917 

Dear  Sir: 

I  have  been  endeavoring  to  find  you  with  a  view 
to  warning  you  against  carrying  out  what  I  under- 
stand to  be  your  intentions.  I  am  told  that  you  have 
decided  to  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  this  island 
with  a  view  to  coming  in  contact  with  the  people 
known  as  the  "Big  Numbers."  Such  a  proceeding 
cannot  but  be  attended  with  great  risk  to  yourself 
and  all  those  who  accompany  you.  The  whole  inte- 
rior of  this  island  of  Malekula  is,  and  has  been  for  a 
considerable  time,  in  a  very  disturbed  condition,  and 


22  CANNIBAL-LAND 

it  has  been  necessary  in  consequence  to  make  two 
armed  demonstrations  in  the  "Big  Numbers"  coun- 
try during  the  last  three  years.  For  these  reasons, 
on  the  part  of  the  Joint  Administration  of  this 
group,  I  request  that  you  will  not  proceed  further 
with  this  idea,  and  hereby  formally  warn  you  against 
such  persistence,  for  the  consequences  of  which  the 
Administration  cannot  hold  itself  responsible. 
Yours  faithfully 

(Signed)  M.  King 

H.B.M.  Resident  Commissioner  for  the  New  Hebrides 

In  any  case  I  trust  you  will  not  take  your  wife  into 
the  danger  zone  with  you. 

M.  K. 


CHAPTER  II 

SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA 

OsA  and  I  were  sure,  after  our  first  adventure  in 
Malekula,  that  we  had  had  enough  of  cannibals  to 
last  us  for  the  rest  of  our  natural  lives.  But  when  we 
reached  Sydney,  on  our  way  home,  and  had  our  films 
developed,  we  began  to  weaken.  Our  pictures  were 
so  good  that  we  almost  forgot  the  risk  we  had  taken 
to  get  them.  The  few  feet  I  had  managed  to  grind 
out  on  Malekula  were  no  "staged"  pictures  of  sav- 
age life.  They  were  so  real  and  convincing  that  Osa 
declared  her  knees  went  wobbly  every  time  she  saw 
them. 

Before  many  months,  Nagapate  was  scowling  out 
of  the  screen  at  audiences  in  New  York  and  Paris  and 
London,  and  villagers  who  would  never  go  a  hun- 
dred miles  from  home  were  meeting  him  face  to  face 
in  the  Malekula  jungle.  The  public  wanted  more  — 
and  so  did  we.  Early  in  1919,  about  a  year  after  our 
first  adventure  in  the  Malekula  bush,  we  were  again 
in  Sydney,  preparing  for  a  second  visit  to  the  land  of 
the  Big  Numbers  —  the  trip  out  of  which  this  book 
has  grown. 


24  CANNIBAL-LAND 

As  we  sailed  into  Sydney  harbor  on  the  S.S.  Ven- 
tura, we  met,  saihng  out,  the  Pacifique,  the  httle 
steamer  of  the  Messageries  Maritimes  that  had 
taken  us  to  the  New  Hebrides  on  our  former  visit. 
That  meant  we  should  have  four  weeks  to  wait  be- 
fore embarking  on  our  journey  to  Malekula.  We 
were  impatient  to  be  off,  but  we  knew  that  the  four 
weeks  would  pass  quickly  enough,  for  many  things 
remained  to  be  done  before  we  should  be  ready  for 
a  long  sojourn  in  the  jungle. 

We  took  up  our  abode  with  the  Higginses,  in  their 
house  on  Darling  Point  Road  overlooking  the  har- 
bor. Ernie  Higgins  had  handled  my  films  for  me  on 
my  previous  trip,  and  I  had  found  him  to  be  the  best 
laboratory  man  I  had  ever  met  with,  so  I  was  glad 
to  be  again  associated  with  him. 

The  house  was  an  old-fashioned  brick  house  of 
about  twelve  or  fourteen  rooms,  g  I  fitted  up  one  of 
the  second-story  rooms  to  serve  as  a  workroom.  I 
had  electricity  brought  in  and  set  up  my  Pathescope 
projector,  so  that  I  could  see  the  pictures  I  happened 
to  be  working  on.  Having  this  projector  meant  that 
the  work  of  cutting  and  assembling  films  would  be 
cut  in  two.  I  put  up  my  rewinds,  and  soon  had 
everything  in  apple-pie  order. 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA       25 

From  the  window  of  my  workroom,  I  could  look 
over  Sydney  harbor.  Osa  and  I  never  tired  of  watch- 
ing the  ships  going  in  and  out.  We  would  consult 
the  sailing  lists  in  the  newspapers,  and  try  to  identify 
the  vessels  that  we  saw  below  us.  There  were  steam- 
ers from  China  and  Japan  and  the  Straits  Settle- 
ments; little  vessels  from  the  various  South  Seas 
groups;  big,  full-rigged  ships  from  America;  steam- 
ers from  Africa  and  Europe;  little  schooners  from 
the  islands;  coastal  boats  to  and  from  New  Zealand 
and  Tasmania,  and  almost  every  day  big  ships  came 
in  with  returned  soldiers.  In  the  course  of  a  week  we 
saw  boats  of  every  description  flying  the  flags  of  al- 
most every  nation  on  the  globe. 

Osa  put  in  long  days  in  the  harbor,  fishing  from 
Mr.  Higgins's  little  one-man  dinghy,  that  was  nearly 
swamped  a  dozen  times  a  day  in  the  wash  from  the 
ferry-boats,  while  I  worked  like  a  slave  at  my  motion- 
picture  apparatus.  The  public  thinks  that  a  wander- 
ing camera-man's  difficulties  begin  with  putting  a 
roll  of  film  in  the  camera  and  end  with  taking  it  out. 
If  I  were  telling  the  true  story  of  this  trip,  I  should 
start  with  my  grilling  weeks  of  preparation  in  New 
York.  But  my  troubles  in  Sydney  will  perhaps  give 
sufficient  idea  of  the  unromantic  back-of-the-scenes 


26  CANNIBAL-LAND 

in  the  life  of  a  motion-picture  explorer.  I  had  trou- 
bles by  the  score.  My  cameras  acted  up.  They 
scratched  the  film;  they  buckled.  When  I  had  reme- 
died these  and  a  dozen  other  ailments,  I  found  that 
my  pictures  were  not  steady  when  they  were  pro- 
jected. The  fault  we  at  last  located  in  Mr.  Higgins's 
printer.  We  repaired  the  printer.  Then  we  found 
that  the  developer  produced  a  granulated  effect  on 
the  film.  It  took  us  two  weeks  to  get  the  proper 
developer.  But  our  troubles  were  not  over.  Great 
spots  came  out  on  the  pictures  —  grease  in  the  de- 
veloping tanks.  And  the  racks  were  so  full  of  old 
chemicals  that  they  spoiled  the  film  that  hung  over 
them.  I  had  new  racks  and  new  tanks  made.  They 
were  not  made  according  to  specifications.  I  had 
them  remade  twice  and  then  took  them  apart  and 
did  the  work  myself. 

After  I  thought  that  my  troubles  were  over,  I 
found  that  my  Pathescope  projector,  which  had 
been  made  for  standard  film,  had  several  parts  lack- 
ing. This  was  most  serious,  for  it  spoiled  a  plan  that 
I  had  had  in  the  back  of  my  head  ever  since  I  had 
first  seen  my  Malekula  pictures.  I  wanted  to  show 
them  to  Nagapate  and  his  men.  It  was  an  event  that 
I  had  looked  forward  to  ever  since  I  had  decided  to 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA   27 

revisit  the  island.  It  would  be  almost  comparable  to 
setting  up  a  movie  show  in  the  Garden  of  Eden. 
Luckily,  I  was  able  to  have  the  missing  parts  made 
in  Sydney,  and  my  apparatus  was  at  last  in  order. 

Then  I  had  to  collect  as  much  information  as  I 
could  about  the  New  Hebrides  and  their  inhabitants, 
so  I  trotted  around  morning  after  morning,  to  inter- 
view traders  and  steamship  officials  and  mission- 
aries. Another  task,  in  which  Osa  helped  me,  was  to 
ransack  the  second-hand  clothing  stores  for  old  hats 
and  coats  and  vests  to  serve  as  presents  for  the  na- 
tives. Other  trade-stuffs,  such  as  tobacco,  mirrors, 
knives,  hatchets,  and  bright-colored  calico,  I 
planned  to  get  in  Vila,  the  principal  port  and  capi- 
tal of  the  New  Hebrides. 

The  four  weeks  had  gone  by  like  a  flash,  but  the 
Pacifique  had  not  yet  put  in  an  appearance.  She 
came  limping  into  harbor  at  the  end  of  another  week. 
She  had  been  delayed  by  engine  trouble  and  by 
quarantines;  for  the  influenza  was  raging  through 
the  South  Seas.  It  was  announced  that  she  would 
sail  in  five  days,  but  the  sailing  date  was  postponed 
several  times,  and  it  was  the  18th  of  June  before  we 
finally  lifted  anchor. 

It  seemed  good  to  get  out  of  the  flu-infested  city. 


28  CANNIBAL-LAND 

where  theaters  and  schools  and  churches  were  closed, 
every  one  was  forced  to  wear  a  mask,  and  the  popu- 
lation was  in  a  blue  funk.  We  both  loved  Sydney 
and  its  hospitable  people,  but  we  were  not  sorry  to 
see  the  pretty  harbor,  with  its  green  slopes  dotted 
with  red-tiled  roofs,  fade  into  the  distance. 

Osa  and  I  have  often  said  that  we  like  the  Pa- 
cifique  better  than  any  ship  we  have  ever  traveled  on. 
It  is  a  little  steamer  —  only  one  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred tons.  We  do  not  have  bunks  to  sleep  in,  but 
comfortable  beds.  Morning  coffee  is  served  from 
five  to  eleven  o'clock.  It  is  an  informal  meal.  Every 
one  comes  up  for  it  in  pajamas.  Breakfast  is  at  half- 
past  eleven.  Dinner  is  ready  at  half-past  six  and 
lasts  until  half -past  eight.  It  is  a  leisurely  meal,  of 
course  after  course,  with  red  wine  flowing  plentifully. 
After  dinner,  the  French  oflScers  play  on  the  piano 
and  sing. 

Most  of  the  officers  were  strangers  to  us  on  this 
voyage,  for  our  old  friends  were  all  down  with  the 
flu  in  Sydney.  The  doctor  and  the  wireless  operator 
were  both  missing,  and  the  captain,  Eric  de  Cata- 
lano,  assumed  their  duties.  He  was  a  good  wireless 
operator,  for  we  got  news  from  New  Zealand  each 
night  and  were  in  communication  with  Noumea  long 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA       29 

before  we  sighted  New  Caledonia.  How  efficient  he 
was  as  a  doctor,  I  cannot  say.  But  he  had  a  big  med- 
icine chest  and  made  his  round  each  day  among  the 
sick,  and  though  many  of  the  passengers  came  down 
with  influenza,  none  of  them  died.  He  was  a  hand- 
some man,  quiet  and  inteUigent,  and  a  fine  photog- 
rapher. He  had  several  cameras  and  a  well-fitted 
dark  room  and  an  enlarging  apparatus  aboard,  and 
had  made  some  of  the  best  island  pictures  I  had  ever 
seen.  He  seemed  to  be  a  man  of  many  talents,  for 
the  chief  engineer  told  me  that  he  had  an  electri- 
cian's papers  and  could  run  the  engines  as  well  as  he 
himself  could. 

We  were  a  polyglot  crowd  aboard.  We  had  fifteen 
first-class  and  five  second-class  passengers,  French, 
Australian,  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish,  and  one  Dane, 
with  Osa  and  myself  to  represent  America.  In  the 
steerage  were  twenty-five  Japanese,  and  up  forward 
there  was  a  Senegalese  negro  being  taken  to  the 
French  convict  settlement  at  Noumea.  Our  officers 
were  all  French  —  few  could  speak  English.  Our 
deck  crew  was  composed  of  liberes  —  ex-convicts 
from  Noumea.  The  cargo-handlers  were  native  New 
Caledonians  with  a  sprinkling  of  Loyalty  Islanders. 
The  firemen  were  Arabs,  the  dish-washers  in  the  gal- 


30  CANNIBAL-LAND 

ley.  New  Hebrideans.  The  bath  steward  was  a  Fiji 
Islander,  the  cabin  steward  a  Hindu,  the  second- 
class  cabin  steward  hailed  from  the  Molucca  Islands, 
and  our  table  steward  was  a  native  of  French  Indo- 
China. 

Three  days  out  from  Sydney  we  passed  Middle- 
ton  Reef,  a  coral  atoll,  about  five  miles  long  and  two 
across,  with  the  ocean  breaking  in  foam  on  its  reef 
and  the  water  of  its  lagoon  as  quiet  as  a  millpond. 
The  atoll  is  barely  above  water,  and  many  ships 
have  gone  aground  there.  We  sailed  so  close  that  I 
could  have  thrown  a  stone  ashore,  and  saw  the  hull 
of  a  big  schooner  on  the  reef. 

As  we  stood  by  the  rail  looking  at  her,  one  of  our 
fellow-passengers,  a  trader  who  knew  the  islands 
well,  came  up  to  us  and  told  us  her  story. 

"She  went  ashore  three  years  ago,  in  a  big  wind," 
he  said.  "All  hands  stuck  to  the  ship  until  she  broke 
in  two.  Then  they  managed  to  reach  land  —  cap- 
tain and  crew  and  the  captain's  wife  and  two  chil- 
dren. They  had  some  fresh  water  and  a  little  food. 
They  rationed  the  water  carefully,  and  there  was 
rain.  But  the  food  soon  gave  out.  For  days  they  had 
nothing.  The  crew  went  crazy  with  hunger,  and 
killed  one  of  the  children  and  ate  it.   For  two  days, 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA   31 

the  mother  held  the  other  child  in  her  arms.  Then 
she  threw  it  into  the  sea  so  that  they  could  not  eat  it. 
Then  three  of  the  men  took  one  of  the  ship's  boats. 
They  could  not  manage  it  in  the  rough  sea,  but  by  a 
lucky  chance  they  were  washed  up  on  the  beach. 
They  were  still  alive,  but  the  captain's  wife  had  lost 
her  mind." 

We  reached  Noumea  on  the  morning  of  June  23d. 
The  pilot  met  us  outside  the  reef,  in  accordance  with 
regulations,  but  he  refused  to  come  on  board  when  he 
found  that  we  had  several  passengers  down  with  the 
influenza,  so  we  towed  him  in.  We  were  not  allowed 
to  land,  but  were  placed  in  quarantine  off  a  small 
island  about  two  miles  from  Noumea,  between  the 
leper  settlement  and  He  Nou,  the  convict  island.  We 
were  avoided  as  though  we  had  leprosy.  Each  day 
a  launch  came  with  fresh  meat  and  fresh  vegetables, 
the  French  engineer  and  black  crew  all  masked  and 
plainly  anxious  not  to  linger  in  our  vicinity  any 
longer  than  necessary,  and  each  day  the  doctor  came 
and  took  our  temperatures. 

We  passed  our  time  in  fishing  from  the  deck.  We 
had  excellent  luck  and  our  catches  made  fine  eating. 
Osa,  of  course,  caught  more  fish  than  any  one  else, 
principally  because  she  was  up  at  sunrise  and  did  not 


32  CANNIBAL-LAND 

quit  until  it  was  time  to  go  to  bed.  I  relieved  the 
monotony  in  the  evenings  by  showing  my  pictures. 
I  set  up  the  Pathescope  in  the  saloon,  and  each  night 
I  gave  a  performance.  My  audience  was  most  criti- 
cal. Every  one  on  board  knew  the  New  Hebrides 
and  Noumea  well,  and  many  of  the  passengers  were 
familiar  with  the  Solomons  and  other  groups  in 
which  I  had  taken  pictures.  But  my  projector 
worked  finely;  I  had  as  good  a  show  as  could  be 
seen  in  any  motion-picture  house,  and  every  one  was 
satisfied. 

We  had  been  surprised,  as  we  steamed  into  the 
harbor,  to  see  the  Euphrosyne  lying  at  anchor  there. 
The  sight  of  her  had  made  us  realize  that  we  were  in- 
deed nearing  the  Big  Numbers  territory.  Strangely 
enough,  the  thought  aroused  no  fear  in  us  —  only 
excitement  and  eagerness  to  get  to  work,  and  resent- 
ment against  the  delay  that  kept  us  inactive  in  Nou- 
mea harbor. 

Not  until  four  days  had  passed  was  our  quaran- 
tine lifted.  On  the  evening  of  June  27th,  the  launch 
brought  word  that  peace  had  been  signed,  and  that, 
if  no  more  cases  of  flu  had  developed,  we  would  be 
allowed  to  land  on  the  following  day  and  take  part 
in  the  peace  celebration. 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA       33 

New  Caledonia  does  not  much  resemble  the  other 
islands  of  the  South  Pacific.  It  has  a  white  popula- 
tion of  twenty  thousand  —  about  two  thirds  as 
great  as  the  native  population.  Its  capital,  Noumea, 
is  an  industrial  city  of  fifteen  thousand  white  inhabi- 
tants —  the  Chicago  of  the  South  Seas.  In  and 
around  it  are  nickel-smelters,  meat-canneries,  sugar- 
works,  tobacco  and  coconut-oil  and  soap  factories. 
New  Caledonia  is  rich  in  minerals.  It  has  large  de- 
posits of  coal  and  kaolin,  chrome  and  cobalt,  lead 
and  antimony,  mercury,  cinnabar,  silver,  gold  and 
copper  and  gypsum  and  marble.  In  neighboring  is- 
lands are  rich  guano  beds.  Agriculture  has  not  yet 
been  crowded  off  the  island  by  industry.  The 
mountain  slopes  make  good  grazing  grounds  and  the 
fertile  valleys  are  admirably  fitted  for  the  produc- 
tion of  coffee,  cotton,  maize,  tobacco,  copra,  rubber, 
and  cereals.  Yet  there  is  little  of  South  Seas  ro- 
mance about  the  islands.  And  Noumea  is  one  of  the 
ugliest,  most  depressing  little  towns  on  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

We  docked  there  early  on  the  morning  of  Satur- 
day, the  28  th  of  June.  The  wharf  was  packed  with 
people,  but  none  of  them  would  come  on  board.  We 
might  have  been  a  plague  ship.  As  we  went  ashore. 


34  CANNIBAL-LAND 

we  looked  for  signs  of  the  peace  celebration.  A  few 
half-hearted  firecrackers  and  some  flags  hanging 
limp  in  the  heat  were  all.  The  real  celebration,  we 
were  told,  would  take  place  on  Monday. 

In  the  evening,  we  were  invited  to  attend  one  of 
those  terrible  home-talent  performances  that  I  had 
thought  were  a  product  only  of  Kansas,  but,  I  now 
learned,  were  as  deadly  in  the  South  Seas  as  in  the 
Middle  West.  A  round  little  Frenchman  read  a  pa- 
per in  rapid  French  that  we  could  not  understand, 
but  the  expression  of  polite  interest  on  the  faces  of 
the  audience  told  us  that  it  must  be  like  the  Fourth- 
of-July  orations  in  our  home  town.  Then  came  a 
duet,  by  a  man  and  woman  who  could  not  sing.  An- 
other paper.  Then  an  orchestra  of  three  men  and 
four  girls  arranged  themselves  with  much  scraping 
of  chairs  on  the  funny  little  stage  and  wheezed  a  few 
ancient  tunes. 

On  Sunday  night  we  went  to  the  Peace  Ball  in  the 
town  hall.  Most  of  Noumea's  fifteen  thousand  in- 
habitants were  there,  so  dancing  was  next  to  impos- 
sible. It  was  like  a  Mack  Sennet  comedy  ball.  An- 
cient finery  had  been  hauled  out  for  the  occasion, 
and,  though  most  of  the  men  appeared  in  full  dress, 
scarcely  one  had  evening  clothes  that  really  fitted. 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA   35 

Under  the  too  loose  and  too  tight  coats,  however, 
there  were  warm  and  hospitable  hearts,  and  we 
were  treated  royally.  After  the  ball,  we  were  enter- 
tained at  supper  by  the  governor  and  his  suite. 

Governor  Joulia  was  a  little,  bald-headed  man  of 
about  fifty  years  of  age,  always  smiling,  always  po- 
lite, and  always  dressed  in  the  most  brilliant  of  bril- 
liant uniforms,  covered  with  decorations  that  he  had 
won  during  campaigns  in  Senegal,  Algeria  and  India. 
His  wife  was  a  pretty,  plump  woman  of  about  thirty 
—  she  and  Osa  took  to  each  other  at  once.  They 
spoke  no  English,  and  our  French  is  awful,  but  we 
struck  out  like  drowning  persons,  and  managed  to 
understand  each  other  after  a  fashion. 

On  Monday,  the  "real  celebration"  of  the  peace 
consisted  in  closing  the  stores  and  sleeping  most  of 
the  day.  In  the  afternoon,  the  governor  and  his 
wife  came  to  the  ship  for  us  and  took  us  to  their 
beautiful  summer  place,  about  five  miles  from  the 
city.  A  great  park,  with  deer  feeding  under  the  trees, 
fine  gardens,  tennis  courts,  well-tended  walks  —  and 
the  work  all  done  by  numbered  convicts. 

There  are  convicts  everywhere  in  and  about  Nou- 
mea —  convicts  and  liberes.  Their  presence  makes 
the  ugly  little  town  seem  even  more  unprepossessing 


36  CANNIBAL-LAND 

than  it  is.  The  pleasantest  spot  anywhere  around  is 
lie  Nou,  the  convict  island  that  I  have  often  heard 
called  a  hell  on  earth.  On  this  green  little  island 
are  about  five  hundred  convicts  —  all  old  men,  for 
France  has  not  deported  any  of  her  criminals  to  New 
Caledonia  since  1897.  They  are  all  "lifers."  Indeed, 
I  was  told  of  one  old  man  who  is  in  for  two  hundred 
years;  he  has  tried  to  escape  many  times,  and,  accord- 
ing to  a  rule  of  the  settlement,  ten  years  are  added 
to  a  man's  sentence  for  each  attempt  at  escape. 

We  visited  lie  Nou  in  company  with  Governor 
Joulia  and  Madame  Joulia;  the  Mayor  of  Noumea; 
the  manager  of  the  big  nickel  mines;  the  Governor  of 
the  prison  settlement,  and  a  lot  of  aides-de-some- 
thing. We  saw  the  old  prisoners,  in  big  straw  hats 
and  burlap  clothing,  each  with  his  number  stamped 
on  his  back,  all  busy  doing  nothing.  We  were  taken 
through  the  cells  where,  in  former  times,  convicts 
slept  on  bare  boards,  with  their  feet  through  leg- 
irons.  We  were  locked  in  dark  dungeons,  and,  for 
the  benefit  of  my  camera,  the  guillotine  was  brought 
out  and,  with  a  banana  stalk  to  take  the  place  of  a 
man,  the  beheading  ceremony  was  gone  through 
with.  We  were  taken  in  carriages  over  the  green 
hills  to  the  hospitals  and  to  the  insane  asylum,  where 


SYDNEY  AND  NEW  CALEDONIA   37 

we  saw  poor  old  crazy  men,  with  vacant  eyes,  star- 
ing at  the  ceihngs.  Here  we  met  the  king  of  the 
world,  who  received  us  with  great  pomp  from  behind 
the  bars  of  a  strong  iron  cage,  and  a  pitiful  old  inven- 
tor, who  showed  us  a  perpetual-motion  machine  which 
he  had  just  perfected.  It  was  made  from  stale  bread. 

Yet  lie  Nou  is  better  than  Noumea,  with  its  ugly 
streets  full  of  broken  old  liberes.  While  most  of  the 
convicts  were  sent  out  for  life,  some  were  sent  for  five 
years.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  they  were  freed  from 
lie  Nou  and  permitted  to  live  in  New  Caledonia  on 
parole,  and  if  they  had  committed  no  fresh  offense, 
at  the  end  of  another  five  years  they  were  given  their 
ticket  back  to  France.  Any  one  sentenced  to  a  longer 
term  than  five  years,  however,  never  saw  France 
again.  He  regained  his  freedom,  but  was  destined  to 
lifelong  exile.  Some  of  the  liberes  have  found  em- 
ployment and  have  become  responsible  citizens  of 
New  Caledonia,  but  many  of  them  drift  through  the 
streets  of  Noumea,  broken  old  men  who  sleep  wher- 
ever they  can  find  a  corner  to  crawl  into  and  pick 
their  food  from  the  gutters. 

I  was  glad,  while  in  Noumea,  to  renew  my  ac- 
quaintance with  Commissioner  King  of  the  New 
Hebrides,  who  had  come  to  New  Caledonia  to  have 


38  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  Euphrosyne  repaired.  I  talked  over  with  him 
my  proposed  expedition  to  Malekula,  and  received 
much  valuable  advice.  He  could  not  give  me  the 
armed  escort  I  had  hoped  to  secure  from  him,  for 
he  had  no  police  boys  to  spare.  He  promised,  how- 
ever, to  pick  us  up  at  Vao,  in  about  a  month's  time, 
and  take  us  for  a  cruise  through  the  group  in  the  Eu- 
phrosyne. I  wanted  him,  and  the  New  Caledonian 
ojQScials  as  well,  to  see  some  of  my  work,  so  I  decided 
to  show  my  iSlms  in  the  Grand  Cinema,  the  leading 
motion-picture  house  of  Noumea.  I  gave  the  pro- 
prietor the  films  free  of  charge,  under  condition  that 
I  got  fifty  seats  blocked  off  in  the  center  of  the  house. 
We  invited  fifty  guests,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
house  was  packed  with  French  citizens  of  Noumea, 
Chinese  and  Japanese  coolies  and  native  New  Cale- 
donians. I  showed  the  five  reels  called  "Cannibals 
of  the  South  Seas."  Then  I  showed  my  four  reels  of 
Malekula  film,  and  ended  up  with  a  one-reel  subject, 
Noumea.  We  were  given  an  ovation,  and  both  Osa 
and  I  had  to  make  speeches  —  understood  by 
few  of  those  present.  The  French  have  a  passion  for 
speeches  whether  they  can  understand  them  or  not. 
The  next  morning,  we  found  ourselves  celebrities  as 
we  walked  through  the  streets  of  Noumea. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  THRESHOLD  OF  CANNIBAL-LAND 

We  left  New  Caledonia  at  midnight  on  July  3d,  and 
steamed  over  a  calm  sea  to  Vila. 

Vila  is  the  commercial  center  as  well  as  th^  capi- 
tal of  the  New  Hebrides  and  its  harbor  is  one  of  the 
finest  in  the  South  Seas.  On  our  right,  as  we  steamed 
in,  was  the  island  of  Irriki,  a  mountain  peak  rising 
out  of  the  sea,  on  the  highest  point  of  which  Mr. 
King  has  built  his  house.  Vila  is  a  typical  South 
Seas  town  —  a  rambling  mixture  of  tropical  and  Eu- 
ropean architecture  and  no  architecture  at  all.  Its 
public  buildings,  French  and  British,  its  churches, 
and  the  well-kept  British  settlement,  with  the  pa- 
rade grounds  and  barracks  for  the  native  police, 
make  it  more  imposing  than  the  run  of  the  pioneer 
villages  of  Melanesia,  but  it  seemed  strange  to  us 
that  it  should  be  the  metropolis  for  the  white  people 
of  thirty  islands.  We  spent  a  day  in  Vila  looking  up 
old  acquaintances  and  laying  in  supplies.  Among 
the  acquaintances  we  found  good  old  Father  Prin 
who  had  been  retired  from  active  duty  on  Vao  and 
had  come  to  Vila  to  spend  his  declining  days.   He 


40  CANNIBAL-LAND 

was  glad  to  see  us,  but  shook  his  head  when  he  heard 
that  we  were  again  going  to  try  our  luck  among  the 
Big  Numbers. 

"Big  Numbers  plenty  bad,"  he  warned  us  in 
beche-de-mer.  And  Osa  and  I  replied  in  the  same 
tongue,  "Me  no  fright." 

I  bought  nearly  a  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  food 
and  trade-stuffs  from  the  four  trading  stores  of  Vila, 
but  could  not  get  a  schooner  or  any  native  boys  to 
take  us  on  our  trip  around  Malekula.  So  I  decided 
to  go  on  to  the  island  of  Espiritu  Santo,  two  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  north.  We  stopped  at  Api,  to  leave 
mail  and  supplies  and  to  take  on  copra.  In  the  har- 
bor there,  we  again  saw  the  old  Snark  at  anchor.  It 
was  a  black  and  shabby  ship,  manned  by  a  black 
crew  and  used  for  recruiting  labor  for  work  in  the 
white  man's  sugar  and  copra  plantations. 

We  found  Segond  Channel,  ofiF  Southeastern 
Santo,  filled  with  cutters  and  schooners,  every  one 
of  which  had  white  men  aboard,  who  had  been  wait- 
ing a  couple  of  weeks  for  the  news  and  supplies 
brought  by  the  Pacifique.  In  no  time  at  all,  I  made 
arrangements  for  three  schooners  with  big  crews  to 
accompany  me  on  my  visit  to  the  tribe  of  the  Big 
Numbers.   Mr.  Thomas,  of  Hog  Harbor,  promised 


THRESHOLD  OF  CANNIBAL-LAND     41 

he  would  send  his  boat  to  Vao  in  a  week  with  as 
many  boys  as  he  could  spare.  Mr.  Perrole,  an  ex- 
perienced French  recruiter,  also  agreed  to  charter 
a  schooner  and  bring  boys.  We  obtained  a  third 
schooner  from  a  young  Frenchman,  Paul  Mazouyer, 
one  of  the  most  picturesque  dare-devils  I  have  ever 
met.  A  giant  in  size  and  strength,  boiling  with  en- 
ergy, always  singing,  sometimes  dancing  with  his 
boys,  he  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  fear.  He 
was  a  match  for  three  white  men,  and  he  took 
chances  on  the  beach  that  no  other  recruiter  would 
dream  of  taking.  I  asked  him  once  in  beche-de-mer  — 
the  only  language  in  which  we  could  converse  —  if 
the  savages  did  not  sometimes  make  him  a  little 
anxious. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  shifting  his  huge  frame  and  stretch- 
ing his  arms,  "  my  word !  Suppose  fifty  men  he  come, 
me  no  fright!" 

I  believed  him.  He  was  a  two-fisted  adventurer  of 
the  old  type,  with  the  courage  of  unbeaten  youth. 
He  knew,  as  every  white  man  in  the  New  Hebrides 
knows,  that  he  might  expect  short  shrift  once  the 
natives  got  him  in  their  power,  but  he  trusted  to 
fate  and  took  reckless  chances. 

The  captain  of  the  Pacifique  agreed  to  take  us  to 


42  CANNIBAL-LAND 

Vao,  although  it  was  fifty  miles  off  his  course.  We 
dropped  anchor  off  the  island  just  at  daylight  and 
were  surrounded  almost  immediately  by  canoes 
filled  with  naked  savages.  The  Pacifique  was  a  mar- 
vel to  the  natives.  She  was*  one  of  the  smallest 
steamers  I  had  ever  been  aboard,  but  they  had  never 
in  all  their  lives  seen  so  large  a  vessel.  The  imposing 
size  of  the  ship  and  the  impressive  quantity  of  my 
baggage  —  sixty-five  trunks,  crates  and  boxes  — 
gave  me  a  great  deal  of  importance  in  their  eyes.  As 
we  stood  on  the  beach  watching  the  unloading  of  the 
ship's  boat,  they  crowded  about,  regarding  us  with 
furtive  curiosity.  From  time  to  time  they  opened 
their  huge,  slobbering  mouths  in  loud  guffaws, 
though  there  was  apparently  no  cause  for  laughter. 
When  my  things  were  all  unloaded,  the  captain 
and  officers  shook  hands  with  us  and  put  off  for  the 
ship.  In  twenty  minutes  the  Pacifique  was  steam- 
ing away.  Before  she  gained  speed,  a  big  American 
flag  was  hoisted  between  the  masts,  and  the  engi- 
neer tooted  encouragement  to  us.  As  she  grew  small 
in  the  distance,  the  flag  at  the  stern  of  the  vessel  was 
dipped  three  times.  We  sat  on  the  beach  among  our 
boxes  and  watched  her  until  she  was  just  a  cloud  of 
smoke  on  the  horizon.  We  felt  very  lonely  and  very 


THRESHOLD  OF  CANNIBAL-LAND     43 

much  shut  off  from  our  kind  there,  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  jabbering,  naked  savages,  who  stared  at  us 
with  all  the  curiosity  shown  by  people  back  home 
toward  the  wild  man  in  a  sideshow. 

With  a  show  of  cheerfulness,  we  set  about  making 
ourselves  comfortable  for  the  weeks  to  come.  The 
huts  of  the  seventeen  converts  were  deserted,  and 
rapidly  going  to  pieces:  the  former  occupants  had 
forsaken  the  lonely  clearing  for  the  crowded  vil- 
lages. But  the  little  stone  house  in  which  Father 
Prin  had  lived  was  still  standing,  though  one  corner 
of  the  roof  had  fallen  in.  A  proffer  of  tobacco  se- 
cured me  many  willing  black  hands  to  repair  the 
roof  and  thatch  it  with  palm  leaves.  Other  natives 
brought  up  our  trunks  and  boxes.  They  cut  big 
poles  and  lashed  the  boxes  to  them  with  vines,  and, 
ten  to  twenty  natives  to  a  box,  they  carried  the  lug- 
gage from  the  beach  in  no  time.  By  noon  we  had 
everything  stored  away  safe  from  the  weather.  We 
spent  the  afternoon  in  unpacking  the  things  needed 
for  immediate  use,  and  soon  Osa  and  I  had  our  little 
three-room  dwelling  shipshape. 

We  had  learned  a  lesson  from  our  first  trip,  with 
the  result  that,  on  this  second  expedition,  we  had 
brought  with  us  every  possible  comfort  and  even 


44  CANNIBAL-LAND 

some  luxuries  —  from  air-cushions  and  mattresses 
to  hams,  bacons,  and  cheeses  specially  prepared  for 
us  in  Sydney.  With  a  clear-flamed  Primus  stove  and 
Osa  to  operate  it,  we  were  fairly  certain  of  good  food. 
Having  promulgated  the  law  of  the  New  Hebrides 
and  Solomons,  that  every  native  coming  upon  the 
clearing  must  leave  his  gun  behind  him  and  cover 
his  nakedness  with  calico,  we  settled  down  for  a  long 
stay. 

Vao  is  a  very  small  island,  no  more  than  two  miles 
in  diameter,  lying  several  miles  oflF  the  northeast 
shore  of  Malekula.  It  is  rimmed  on  the  Malekula 
side  by  a  broad,  beautiful  beach.  Three  small  vil- 
lages are  hidden  in  the  low,  scrub  jungle,  but  the 
only  signs  of  habitation  are  three  canoe  houses  that 
jut  out  from  the  fringe  of  bushes  and  hundreds  of 
canoes  drawn  up  in  a  careful  line  upon  the  beach. 

About  four  hundred  savages  live  in  the  three  vil- 
lages of  Vao.  Their  huts  —  mere  shelters,  not  high 
enough  to  permit  a  man  to  stand  erect  —  contain 
nothing  but  a  few  bits  of  wood  to  feed  the  smolder- 
ing fires.  Pigs  wander  freely  in  and  out.  Oftentimes 
these  animals  seem  to  be  better  favored  than  the 
human  inmates,  who  are  a  poor  lot,  many  of  them 
aflSicted  with  dreadful  sores  and  weak  eyes. 


THRESHOLD  OF  CANNIBAL-LAND     45 

Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Vao  are  refugees  from 
the  big  island  of  Malekula,  who  were  vanquished  in 
battle  and  literally  driven  off  the  earth  by  their  ene- 
mies. Soon  after  our  arrival,  a  powerful  savage 
named  Tethlong,  one  of  the  Small  Numbers  people, 
arrived  on  Vao  with  twenty  of  his  men.  All  the  re- 
maining men  of  his  tribe  had  been  killed  and  the 
women  and  children  had  been  taken  captive.  The 
natives  of  Vao  received  the  newcomers  as  a  welcome 
addition  to  their  fighting  force,  and  Tethlong  set 
about  to  insure  his  position  among  his  new  neigh- 
bors. He  invited  the  entire  population  to  a  feast, 
and  at  once  sent  his  men  to  neighboring  islands  to 
buy  up  pigs  and  chickens  for  the  occasion.  The 
devil-devils  —  great,  hollowed  logs,  carved  roughly 
to  represent  human  faces,  which  are  erected  every- 
where in  the  New  Hebrides  to  guard  against  evil 
spirits  —  were  consulted  to  find  a  propitious  time 
for  the  feasting,  and  on  the  appointed  day  the  cele- 
bration began  with  much  shouting  and  singing  and 
dancing  and  beating  of  tom-toms.  It  lasted  for  sev- 
eral days.  Before  it  was  over,  seven  hundred  and 
twenty  pigs  had  been  slaughtered.  The  island  had 
never  before  seen  such  a  feast.  As  a  result  of  his 
political  strategy,  Tethlong  became  the  Big  Chief 


46  CANNIBAL-LAND  . 

of  Vao,  taking  precedence  over  the  chiefs  already  ' 
there. 

I  got  some  fine  pictures  of  Tethlong's  feast,  but 
they  were  the  only  pictures  I  took  for  some  days. 
For  one  thing,  1  was  too  busy  for  camera  work;  for 
the  job  of  checking  over  our  supplies  and  fortifying 
our  place  against  a  heavy  rain  kept  us  busy.  For  an- 
other, I  was  anxious  to  keep  our  savage  neighbors 
at  a  distance,  so  long  as  we  were  alone. 

Though  they  got  over  their  curiosity  concerning 
us  and  our  effects  within  a  few  days,  about  half  a 
dozen  loafers  continued  to  appear  every  morning 
and  beg  for  tobacco.  They  were  too  lazy  to  work, 
and  their  constant  presence  annoyed  us.  They  were 
in  the  way,  and,  besides,  they  grew  cheekier  day  by 
day.  The  limit  was  reached  one  evening  when  Osa 
was  playing  her  ukulele.  Several  natives  wandered 
over  from  the  village  to  listen.  It  was  pretty  music 
—  I  liked  it  a  lot  —  and  Osa  was  flattered  when 
some  of  the  boys  came  to  talk  to  us  about  it.  But  it 
soon  developed  that  they  were  demanding  tobacco 
as  compensation  for  listening ! 

We  managed  to  get  hold  of  a  fairly  trustworthy 
boy  —  Arree  by  name  —  to  help  with  the  house- 
work. He  claimed  to  have  gone  to  the  Catholic  mis- 


THRESHOLD  OF  CANNIBAL-LAND     47 

sion  school  at  Vila,  and,  strange  to  say,  he  did  not 
approve  of  the  ways  of  his  own  people,  though  he 
was  never  absent  from  one  of  their  festivals.  He  al- 
ways told  us  the  local  gossip.  It  was  from  him  that 
we  learned  what  had  happened  to  the  mission  boy 
who  had  worked  for  us  on  our  former  visit.  He  had 
aroused  the  ill-will  of  a  neighbor  and  two  weeks  be- 
fore our  arrival  had  died  from  poison  placed  in  his 
lap4ap,  a  pudding  made  of  coconuts  and  fish. 

Osa  could  write  volumes  regarding  the  difficulties 
of  training  her  scrubby  native  recruit  to  the  duties  of 
housework.  He  spoke  good  beche-de-mer,  but  beche- 
de-mer  is  a  language  capable  of  various  interpreta- 
tions. Osa  spoke  it  better  than  I,  but  even  she  could 
not  make  simple  orders  clear  to  our  muddle-brained 
black  slavey.  One  morning,  she  told  Arree  to  heat  an 
iron  for  her.  She  waited  for  a  long  time  to  get  it,  and 
then  went  after  it.  She  found  Arree  crouched  before 
the  fire,  gravely  watching  the  iron  boiling  in  a  pot. 

Arree  murdered  the  King's  English  in  a  way  that 
must  have  made  old  Webster  turn  over  in  his  grave. 
He  never  said  "No."  His  negative  was  always  "No 
more,"  and  his  affirmative  was  an  emphatic  "Yes- 
yes."  When  I  called  for  warm  water  in  the  morning, 
he  would  reply,  blandly,  "Hot  water,  he  cold  fel- 


48  CANNIBAL-LAND 

low,"  and  I  would  have  to  wait  until,  in  his  leisured 
way,  Arree  built  the  fire  and  heated  the  water.  He 
had  a  sore  leg,  which  I  healed  with  a  few  applications 
of  ointment.  A  few  days  later,  he  came  to  me  with 
one  eye  swollen  nearly  shut,  and  my  medicine  kit  in 
his  hand.  "Me  gottem  sore  leg  along  eye-eye,"  he 
informed  me.  Sometimes  he  achieved  triumphs.  I 
asked  him  once  to  tell  another  native  to  bring  me  the 
saw  from  Osa.  In  order  to  air  his  knowledge  of  Eng- 
lish, Arree  said:  "You  go  along  Mary  (woman) 
belong  Master  catchem  one  fellow  something  he 
brother  belong  ackus  (axe),  puUem  he  come,  pushem 
he  go."  And  then  he  translated  the  command,  for 
his  admiring,  wide-eyed  brother,  into  the  native 
dialect. 

Osa  and  I  often  caught  ourselves  falling  into  this 
queer  English  even  when  there  were  no  natives 
around.  It  gets  into  the  blood  like  baby-talk. 


CHAPTER  IV 

NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL 

Long  before  our  reenforcements  were  due  to  arrive, 
we  began  to  feel  uneasy  on  Vao.  I  found  our  neigh- 
bors far  too  friendly  with  the  unregenerate  Malekula 
bushmen  to  be  entirely  trustworthy.  The  bush  peo- 
ple had  no  canoes.  But  when  they  wanted  to  visit 
Vao,  they  would  sing  out  from  the  shore,  and  the 
Vao  men  would  go  after  them  and  bring  them  over, 
fifteen  or  twenty  of  them  at  a  time.  The  Malekula 
men  never  came  near  our  clearing,  but  the  knowl- 
edge that  they  were  on  the  island  made  us  uncom- 
fortable. We  were  sure  that  they  came  to  partici- 
pate in  savage  orgies,  for  often  after  a  group  of  them 
arrived,  the  sound  of  the  tom-tom  and  of  savage 
chanting  drifted  through  the  jungle  from  the  native 
villages,  and  our  little  clearing  seemed  haunted  by 
shadows  that  assumed  menacing  shapes.  Finally, 
there  occurred  an  incident  that  changed  what  had 
been  merely  nervous  apprehension  to  vivid  fear. 

We  had  been  a  week  on  the  island.  The  schooners 
we  were  awaiting  had  not  yet  arrived.  We  could  ex- 
pect them,  now,  any  day,  but  things  do  not  run  by 


50  CANNIBAL-LAND 

clockwork  in  the  South  Seas,  so  we  knew  that  an- 
other week  might  pass  before  we  should  see  them. 
It  had  been  hot  and  rainy  and  steamy  and  disagree- 
able ever  since  our  arrival,  but  to-night  was  clear, 
with  a  refreshing  breeze.  After  our  tinned  dinner, 
Osa  and  I  went  down  to  the  beach.  The  moon  was 
full.  The  waves  lazily  washed  up  on  the  soft  sand, 
white  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  fronds  of  the  palm- 
trees  along  the  shore  whispered  and  rattled  above 
our  heads.  Osa,  in  a  romantic  mood,  was  strumming 
very  softly  on  the  ukulele.  All  at  once,  we  heard 
the  whish-whish  of  canoe  paddles  coming  around  a 
rocky  point.  We  moved  back  into  the  shelter  of  some 
bushes  and  watched. 

Presently  ten  natives  landed  on  the  beach  and 
drew  their  canoe  up  after  them.  From  it  they  took 
two  objects  wrapped  in  leaves,  one  elongated  and 
heavy  —  it  took  several  men  to  handle  it  —  the 
other  small  and  round.  Soon  the  men,  with  their 
burdens,  disappeared  down  a  dark  pathway  leading 
to  the  village. 

For  several  minutes  we  did  not  dare  to  move. 
Then  we  hurried  back  to  the  house  and  got  our  re- 
volvers and  sat  for  a  long  time  feeling  very  much 
alone,  afraid  to  go  to  bed  and  afraid  to  go  out  in  the 


p  NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  51 

open.  After  a  while  a  weird  chanting  and  the  beat- 
ing of  tom-toms  began  in  the  village  near  by.  The 
noise  kept  us  awake  all  night. 

Next  morning,  Arree  came  up  with  his  story  of  the 
night's  revels.  The  packages,  he  said,  had  really 
contained  the  body  and  head  of  a  man.  The  head 
had  been  impaled  on  a  stick  in  the  village  square, 
and  the  natives  had  danced  wildly  around  it.  Then 
the  body  was  spitted  on  a  long  pole  and  roasted  over 
a  great  fire.  The  savages  continued  to  dance  and 
sing  until  the  horrible  meal  was  ready.  The  rest  of 
the  night  was  spent  in  feasting.  Such  orgies  as  this, 
Arree  said,  were  fairly  frequent.  The  natives  often 
purchased  slain  enemies  from  the  bush  savages  of 
Malekula,  to  eat  as  they  would  eat  so  many  pigs. 

Two  days  after  this  incident,  Paul  Mazouyer 
dropped  anchor  off  Vao.  We  were  glad  to  see  him, 
and  told  him  so  in  emphatic  beche'de-mer,  the  only 
common  language  at  our  disposal.  We  promptly  put 
my  apparatus  aboard  his  little  schooner,  or  cutter, 
as  the  craft  was  called  in  those  waters,  and  set  sail 
for  the  country  of  the  Big  Numbers.  A  hundred 
naked  savages  watched  us  in  silence  from  the  beach. 
The  two  other  schooners  had  gone  on  ahead  to  meet 
us  in  Big  Numbers  Bay,  known  locally  as  Tanema- 


52  CANNIBAL-LAND 

rou.  They  were  all  recruiting  schooners  with  ex- 
perienced crews,  armed  with  regulation  rifles,  as 
permitted  and  indeed  insisted  upon  by  the  Govern- 
ment. 

Recruiting  labor  for  the  rubber  and  sugar  planta- 
tions of  white  settlers  is  a  regular  business  in  the 
New  Hebrides  and  a  dangerous  one.  A  recruiter 
chooses  his  island  and  anchors  in  the  offing.  He  then 
sets  adrift  a  charge  of  dynamite,  which  is  detonated 
as  a  signal  to  the  natives.  The  roar  of  the  explosion 
rolls  through  the  valleys  and  echoes  against  the 
hills.  On  the  day  following,  the  savages  come  down 
to  the  beach  to  trade.  Two  boats  then  put  off  from 
the  schooner.  In  the  first  is  the  white  man  with  an 
imarmed  crew,  for  the  savages  are  not  beyond  rush- 
ing the  boat  for  the  sake  of  a  gun.  In  the  second, 
hovering  a  short  distance  away,  is  an  armed  crew, 
who  cover  the  savages  with  their  guns  while  their 
master  parleys  with  the  chiefs  for  recruits.  At  the 
first  hostile  move  on  the  part  of  the  natives,  the  boys 
in  the  covering  boat  open  fire. 

Despite  such  extreme  precautions,  tragedies  hap- 
pen. A  friend  of  Paul  Mazouyer's  had  been  killed  at 
Malua,  whither  we  were  now  bound.  Paul  told  us 
the  story.    There  were  only  a  few  savages  on  the 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  53 

beach  at  the  time;  but  one  of  them  promised  to  go 
into  the  bush  to  recruit  if  his  people  were  given  half 
a  case  of  tobacco.  The  recruiter  foolishly  sent  his 
covering  boat  back  to  the  cutter  for  the  tobacco,  and 
the  savages  sat  down  on  the  beach  to  wait.  While 
they  were  waiting,  another  savage  came  out  of  the 
jungle.  He  walked  slowly  down  the  beach  with  his 
hands  behind  him  and  waded  out  into  the  water  un- 
til he  could  get  behind  the  white  man.  Then  he  sud- 
denly placed  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  against  the  white 
man's  back  and  pulled  the  trigger. 

.\  French  gunboat  was  sent  from  Noumea  to 
avenge  the  murder,  and  a  month  after  the  tragedy 
Paul  led  an  expedition  into  the  bush  which  razed  a 
village  and  killed  a  number  of  savages. 

In  conclusion,  Paul  told  us  an  incident  that  he 
thought  was  uproariously  funny.  The  victor  had 
brought  the  bodies  of  four  of  the  natives  down  to  the 
sea.  Among  the  members  of  the  expedition  were  a 
dozen  "civilized"  blacks  of  a  tribe  hostile  to  the  Big 
Numbers.  These  twelve  boys  looked  thoughtfully 
at  the  four  dead  bodies  and  then  approached  the 
commander  with  a  spokesman  at  their  head. 

"Master,"  he  said  with  great  earnestness,  "me 
lookum  some  fellow  man  he  die  finish.  He  stop  along 


54  CANNIBAL-LAND 

sand.  He  plenty  good  kai-kai!  Me  think  more  bet- 
ter you  no  put  him  along  ground.  Altogether  boy  he 
speak  —  He  eat  him!" 

We  reached  the  bay  where  these  events  had  taken 
place  on  the  first  night  after  our  departure  from  Vao. 
We  coasted  along  so  close  to  the  shore  that  we  could 
plainly  see  groups  of  natives  who  watched  us,  talk- 
ing and  gesticulating  among  themselves,  and  some- 
times followed  us  for  some  distance  along  the  beach, 
curious  to  see  where  we  would  land.  We  rounded 
the  northern  point  of  the  island  and  bucked  into  a 
stiff  head  wind  and  a  strong  current.  We  made  little 
progress  until  the  tide  turned.  Then  we  went  along 
at  a  good  rate. 

We  anchored  in  Malua  Bay,  a  stone's  throw  from 
shore,  on  a  line  with  a  great  ravine  that  cleft  the 
mountains  and  separated  the  territory  of  the  Small 
Numbers  tribes,  which  lies  directly  across  from  Vao, 
from  that  of  the  Big  Numbers,  which  occupies  the 
northwest  corner  of  the  island. 

That  was  a  night  typical  of  the  South  Seas.  I 
shall  never  forget  it.  The  moon  was  visible  for  only 
a  few  seconds  at  a  time,  when  it  dodged  from  behind 
thick,  drifting  clouds  and  drenched  everything  with 
a  light  almost  as  bright  as  day.  Our  black  crew  hud- 


! 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  55 

died  in  the  bow  of  the  boat.  We  sat  with  our  guns 
beside  us.  On  the  shore  we  could  clearly  make  out 
the  forms  of  savages  squatting  around  their  camp- 
fire.  From  the  distance  we  could  hear  the  deep  tones 
of  the  conch-shell  boo-boos.  The  sea  rolled  upon  the 
beach  with  a  heavy,  sleepy  purring.  In  the  dark 
blue  waters  below  us  we  could  see  sharks  moving 
about,  leaving  trails  of  phosphorus.  By  the  light  of 
a  greasy,  smoky  lantern  that  went  out  every  few 
moments,  struggling  against  a  ground  swell  that 
threatened  to  capsize  my  typewriter,  I  entered  the 
day's  events  in  my  diary.  As  I  wrote,  the  savages 
began  a  weird  dance,  their  grotesque  forms  silhouet- 
ted against  the  sky.  The  sound  of  their  chanting 
brought  me  what  Osa  calls  the  "South  Sea  feel- 
ing." I  don't  know  how  to  describe  it.  But  it  is  the 
thing  that  makes  me  always  want  to  go  back. 

The  next  morning  we  went  ashore  in  two  boats, 
Paul,  Osa,  and  myself  in  one,  with  one  boy  to  pull, 
and  four  armed  boys  in  another  boat  to  cover  us. 
There  were  only  half  a  dozen  savages  in  sight,  so  we 
landed  on  the  beach  and  even  walked  up  to  the  small 
river  that  emptied  into  the  bay,  but  we  kept  our 
guns  handy  and  the  covering  boat  was  watching 
closely.  We  knew  that  if  it  came  to  a  rush,  we  could 


56  CANNIBAL-LAND 

beat  the  savages  to  the  boat  and  that  they  were  too 
poor  shots  to  waste  valuable  ammunition  in  shoot- 
ing from  the  edge  of  the  jungle.  It  is  the  custom  of 
the  men  of  Malekula  to  approach  near  enough  to 
place  the  muzzle  against  their  enemy.  Otherwise, 
they  seldom  risk  a  shot. 

We  had  not  been  ashore  long  when  we  saw  a  cou- 
ple of  natives  emerge  from  the  bush  and  walk  toward 
us.  We  hurried  to  the  boat.  Other  savages  appeared 
in  small  groups,  so  we  shoved  ofiP.  We  bobbed  along 
the  shore  all  afternoon,  while  Paul  tried  to  get  re- 
cruits. About  fifty  armed  savages  wandered  up  and 
down,  coaxing  us  in  closer;  but  on  account  of  Osa, 
I  would  not  risk  landing,  though  Paul,  who  feared 
nothing,  wanted  to  put  in  to  shore.  He  knew  that 
almost  any  savage  in  that  region  would  kill  him,  if 
chance  offered,  in  revenge  for  the  part  he  had  played 
in  the  punitive  expedition,  but  this  was  his  favorite 
recruiting  ground  and  he  was  not  to  be  scared  away 
from  it.  He  had  the  contempt  for  natives  that  has 
resulted  fatally  for  many  a  white  man. 

At  sundown  we  returned  to  the  cutter.  We  could 
hear  the  savages  shouting  as  they  went  back  into  the 
hills.  The  broiling  sun  had  left  us  hot  and  sticky, 
and  when  Paul  suggested  a  swim  we  all  agreed  to  it, 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  57 

sharks  or  no  sharks.  The  boys  kept  a  sharp  lookout 
for  the  flashes  of  phosphorus  that  would  mean  ap- 
proaching danger,  but  we  finished  our  swim  without 
adventure.  Nevertheless,  that  night  we  put  out 
hooks  and  caught  two  sharks,  one  four  feet  long,  the 
other  six  —  which  ended  our  swimming  along  these 
shores. 

Paul's  little  boat  was  close  quarters  for  the  three 
of  us.  He  made  his  bed  alongside  the  engines,  be- 
low, and  Osa  and  I  slept  in  the  scuppers,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  hatch. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock,  it  began  to  rain  and  blow. 
We  dragged  our  anchor  and  had  to  put  down  an- 
other and  then  a  kedge  anchor  in  addition.  The 
craft  twisted  and  turned  and  plunged,  until  Osa 
swore  we  went  right  over  and  up  again.  I  padded 
Osa  with  old  sail  to  protect  her  from  bruises  and  we 
held  on  to  the  hatch  with  both  hands  to  keep  from 
being  thrown  into  the  sea.  Almost  all  our  supplies 
were  drenched;  for  we  robbed  everything  else  of  tar- 
paulin or  canvas  coverings  to  keep  my  apparatus 
dry.  Shivering  and  wretched,  we  crouched  on  deck 
waiting  for  daylight.  Morning  was  never  so  slow  in 
coming;  but  with  the  first  light,  the  rain  ceased,  the 
sea  became  smooth,  and  the  wn  came  up  broiling 


58  CANNIBAL-LAND 

hot,  sucking  up  the  moisture  until  from  stem  to  bow 
we  looked  like  a  spout  of  a  boiling  tea-kettle. 

There  was  fever  in  the  air.  We  ate  quinine  as  if  it 
had  been  candy,  in  an  effort  to  stave  off  the  sickness 
that,  always  inconvenient,  would  now  prove  espe- 
cially so. 

About  noon  we  made  out  two  vessels  sailing  up  to 
us,  and  as  they  came  alongside  we  found  that  one 
was  sailed  by  Perrole  and  the  other  by  a  young  man, 
half  Samoan  and  half  English,  whom  Mr.  Thomas 
had  sent  with  ten  boys.  His  name  was  Stephens. 
We  now  had  twenty-six  armed  and  experienced  na- 
tives, four  white  men  and  Osa.  With  this  force  I 
was  ready  to  undertake  almost  anything;  so  after  a 
hasty  conference  we  decided  to  go  on  to  Tanemarou, 
the  bay  from  which  we  had  first  entered  Nagapate's 
territory.  Without  the  aid  of  the  Government,  I 
saw  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  carry  out  my 
original  intention  of  entering  the  island  at  the  north- 
ern end  and  traversing  it  straight  through  to  the 
southern.  So  I  proposed  the  alternative  plan  of  sail- 
ing completely  around  the  island,  landing  at  differ- 
ent points  from  which  I  could  strike  inland  to  visit 
the  tribes.  In  many  ways,  this  latter  plan  proved  to 
be  the  better  of  the  two  for  my  purpose.   I  doubt. 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  59 

now,  if  a  Government  escort  would  have  been  to  my 
advantage;  for  any  Government  expedition  would 
have  been  regarded  as  a  punitive  raid  and  as  such 
would  have  encountered  the  most  determined  resist- 
ance. Even  at  the  time,  I  felt  that  the  peaceable  na- 
ture of  my  expedition  would  put  me  on  good  terms 
with  the  savages.  Cruel  as  they  were,  they  were 
childlike,  too,  and  the  fact  that  we  were  coming  to 
them  in  a  friendly  spirit  with  presents  for  which,  ap- 
parently, we  were  asking  nothing  in  return,  would, 
I  felt  sure,  disarm  their  hostility.  I  had  discovered 
that  most  of  the  recent  murders  of  white  men  had 
been  committed  by  the  savages  in  a  spirit  of  revenge. 
Recruiters  who  had  carried  off  their  kinsfolk;  trad- 
ers who  had  cheated  them;  members  of  punitive  ex- 
peditions, or  the  occasional  Simon  Legree  who  had 
earned  the  hatred  of  the  blacks  by  cruelty  —  such 
were  the  victims  of  savage  gun  or  knife. 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  confidence  that  I  sailed 
into  Tanemarou  Bay.  Here,  sweeping  around  us, 
was  the  broad  beach  across  which  we  had  run  for  our 
lives  almost  two  years  before.  In  fine  yellow  sand  it 
spread  away  from  the  water's  edge  for  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  to  the  dark  fringe  of  jungle.  Against  the 
high  black  volcanic  rocks  that  guarded  the  entrance 


60  CANNIBAL-LAND 

to  the  bay,  a  heavy  surf  beat  and  roared,  but  on  the 
sands  the  land-locked  waters  lapped  gently,  shini" 
mering  with  many  colors.  The  dark  hills  rose  about 
the  jungle  in  green  slopes  mottled  with  brown  and 
streaked  here  and  there  with  tiny  wisps  of  smoke. 

I  suddenly  thought  that  the  peaceful  aspect  of 
those  hills  was  exactly  what  must  have  struck  the 
men  aboard  the  gunboat  Euphrosyne  when  its  op- 
portune appearance  had  given  Osa  and  me  the 
chance  for  our  lives.  The  memory  of  that  horri- 
ble adventure  made  me  momentarily  uneasy.  Os 
squeezed  my  arm,  and  I  knew  that  her  thoughts,  too, 
had  gone  back  to  the  evening  when,  in  the  gathering 
darkness,  we  had  slipped  from  the  edge  of  the  jun- 
gle, tattered,  bleeding,  and  terrified,  and  rushed  into 
the  water  pursued  by  the  yelling  savages. 

Paul  was  not  troubled  by  any  forebodings.  He  at 
once  suggested  that  we  go  ashore.  So  Osa  and  I  fol- 
lowed him  into  the  boat  and  we  pulled  for  the  beach, 
followed  by  the  small  boats  from  the  other  cutters. 
As  we  landed,  about  twenty  armed  savages  suddenly 
appeared  and  came  walking  boldly  toward  us.  Ex- 
cept for  belts  of  rough  bark  and  clouts  of  pandanus 
fiber,  they  were  naked.  The  flatness  of  their  noses 
was  accentuated  by  plugs  driven  through  the  car- 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  61 

tilage  dividing  the  nostrils.  Shaggy,  outstanding 
manes  of  hair  completely  encircled  their  faces, 
which  were  deeply  seamed  and  wore  a  perpetual 
scowl. 

I  began  to  doubt  once  more  whether  I  could  ful- 
fill the  object  of  my  expedition  after  all.  There  was 
no  man  living  who  had  witnessed  the  cannibalistic 
rites  of  these  wild  men.  Many  had  made  the  at- 
tempt and  had  paid  a  gruesome  penalty.  But  as  the 
band  drew  nearer,  my  feeling  changed.  In  a  sense, 
they  were  my  people.  They  had  encircled  the  globe 
with  me  and  in  the  comfortable  surroundings  of 
great  theaters  had  stood  naked  and  terrible  before 
thousands  of  civilized  people.  I  had  made  their  faces 
familiar  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  With  something 
like  emotion  I  watched  them  as  they  approached. 
Suddenly  the  figure  at  their  head  stood  out  like  a 
"fade-in." 

It  was  Nagapate. 

Osa  and  I  forgot  that  this  savage  had  once  wanted 
to  eat  us.  We  forgot  what  had  happened  at  our  first 
violent  meeting.  We  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled 
and  then,  both  actuated  by  the  same  unaccountable 
impulse,  we  rushed  forward  and  grabbed  his  hand. 

Now  Nagapate  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  a 


62  CANNIBAL-LAND 

handshake,  but  he  seemed  to  understand  instantly 
that  we  were  glad  to  see  him.  His  heavy  face,  gashed 
so  deeply  with  wrinkles  that  his  scowl  seemed  unal- 
terable, broke  into  a  delighted  grin.  He  recovered 
his  dignity  in  a  moment,  however,  and  stood  to  one 
side  with  his  arms  folded  on  his  massive  chest, 
watching  closely  every  move  we  made.  The  strong 
guard  we  had  brought  with  us  must  have  impressed 
him;  but  he  did  not  seem  at  all  apprehensive,  for  he 
could  tell  by  our  conduct  that  we  were  friendly.  We 
were  anxious  to  get  some  pictures.  However,  since 
fresh  relays  of  savages  continued  to  come  down  from 
the  jungle,  we  decided  to  wait  until  we  had  with  us 
all  the  boys  from  the  other  boats  before  taking  any 
further  chances. 

We  decided  to  return  to  the  cutter,  and  as  we  were 
about  to  embark  an  extraordinary  thing  happened. 
Nagapate  came  up  to  Osa  and  made  signs  to  show 
that  he  would  like  to  go  aboard  with  us.  Now  hun- 
dreds of  his  own  people  had  been  grabbed  from  his 
beach  in  times  gone  by  and  "blackbirded"  away  to 
slavery.  He  was  accustomed,  and  with  cause,  to 
think  the  white  man  as  merciless  as  we  thought  him 
to  be.  Yet  of  his  own  free  will,  without  a  glimmer  of 
fear,  Nagapate  put  himself  completely  in  our  power. 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  63 

An  hour  later,  while  we  ate  our  dinner  of  tinned 
beef,  Nagapate,  with  two  of  his  men,  squatted  on 
the  deck  at  our  feet  and  ate  hard-tack  and  white 
trade-salmon.  Afterwards  I  brought  out  pictures 
I  had  made  on  my  first  visit.  The  savages  gave 
yells  of  excitement  when  they  saw  Nagapate's  face 
caught  on  paper.  When  I  produced  a  large  colored 
poster  of  the  chief  and  presented  it  to  him,  he  was 
speechless.  The  three  savages,  looking  at  this  mys- 
terious likeness,  were  almost  ready  to  kow-tow  to  us, 
as  they  did  to  their  devil-devils  in  the  bush. 

But  the  crowning  touch  of  all  came  when  we  had 
grown  a  little  tired  of  our  guests,  and  Osa  brought 
out  her  ukulele  and  commenced  to  sing.  To  our  sur- 
prise Nagapate  joined  in,  chanting  a  weird  melody, 
which  his  men  took  up.  After  a  few  bars,  they  were 
made  shy  by  the  sound  of  their  own  voices.  Nagapate 
stopped  his  song  and  vainly  tried  once  more  to  look 
dignified.  In  fact,  that  old  man-eater  showed  every 
manifestation  of  a  young  and  awkward  boy's  self- 
consciousness! 

We  bridged  over  the  awkward  situation  with  more 
salmon  and  about  ten  o'clock  sent  him  ashore  happy, 
with  his  bare  arms  full  of  knives  and  calico  and  to- 
bacco. We  judged  by  his  farewell  that  we  would  be 


64  CANNIBAL-LAND 


welcome  any  time  we  cared  to  drop  in  on  him  for 
dinner  and  that  we  had  a  fair  prospect  of  not  being 
served  up  as  the  main  course.  In  any  case,  on  the 
strength  of  his  visit,  I  determined  to  chance  a  visit 
to  his  village  on  the  following  day,  though  I  realized 
that  the  visit,  in  many  ways  significant,  did  not  give 
the  least  assurance  of  continued  friendliness.  These 
savages  are  as  willful  and  as  uncertain  in  their 
moods  as  children.  When  they  are  sulky,  they  are 
as  likely  to  murder  treacherously  whoever  arouses 
their  ill-will  as  a  small  boy  is  to  throw  a  stone.  There 
is  no  one  to  control  or  guide  them.  They  are  physi- 
cally powerful,  they  are  passionate,  and  they  pos-  ■ 
sess  deadly  weapons.  We  could  be  no  more  certain  ■ 
that  our  lives  would  be  safe  with  them  than  a  man 
with  a  silk  hat  can  be  sure  of  his  headgear  among 
three  hundred  schoolboys  fighting  with  snowballs. 

We  were  awakened  at  daybreak  by  a  shout  from 
the  shore.  A  score  of  natives  stood  on  the  beach, 
calling  and  gesticulating.  I  went  ashore,  accompa- 
nied by  Paul  Mazouyer,  and  found  that  they  had 
presents  from  their  chief,  Nagapate  —  yams  and  co- 
conuts and  wild  fruits.  But  the  presents  were  not 
for  me.  In  their  almost  unintelligible  beche-de-mer, 
the  natives  explained  that  the  fruits  were  for  "  Mary  " 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  65 

—  their  beche-de-mer  word  for  woman.  I  could 
scarcely  believe  my  ears.  In  all  my  experience 
among  the  blacks  of  the  South  Seas,  I  had  never 
known  a  savage  to  pay  any  attention  to  a  woman,  ex- 
cept to  beat  her  or  to  growl  at  her.  The  women  of 
the  islands  are  slaves,  valued  at  so  many  pigs.  They 
do  all  the  work  that  is  done  in  the  native  villages  and 
get  scoldings  and  kicks  for  thanks.  I  went  doubt- 
fully back  to  the  schooner  and  brought  Osa  ashore. 
The  natives  greeted  her  with  grunts  of  satisfaction 
and  laid  their  offering  at  her  feet. 

My  respect  for  Nagapate  increased.  I  saw  that  he 
was  a  diplomat.  Hahad  observed  that  this  little  per- 
son in  overalls,  who  had  approached  him  so  fear- 
lessly, was  treated  with  the  utmost  deference  by  the 
crews  of  the  schooners  and  by  the  white  men.  He 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  was  the  real 
boss  of  the  expedition.  And  he  was  very  nearly 
right! 

Perrole  and  Stephens  joined  us,  and  we  remained 
on  the  beach  all  morning.  Osa  and  I  took  pictures 
of  the  natives  squatting  about  us  and  watched  for 
Nagapate  himself  to  put  in  an  appearance.  I  was 
eager  to  invite  him  to  his  first  "movie."  He  had 
been  overcome  with  awe  at  sight  of  a  photograph  of 


66  CANNIBAL-LAND 

himself.  What  would  he  say  to  motion-pictures  that 
showed  him  talking,  with  threatening  gestures,  and 
scowling  as  on  that  memorable  day  two  years  be- 
fore? 

Every  now  and  then  a  new  delegation  of  natives 
arrived  on  the  beach.  In  spite  of  the  law  that  prohib- 
its the  sale  of  firearms  to  the  natives,  they  all  car- 
ried rifles.  I  examined  some  of  the  guns.  They  were 
old,  but  not  too  old  to  do  damage,  and  every  native 
had  a  supply  of  cartridges.  I  found  later  that  spears 
and  bows  and  arrows  are  almost  out  of  use  among 
the  Big  Numbers.  Nine  men  out  of  ten  own  guns. 
Where  do  they  get  them?  No  native  will  tell,  for 
telling  would  mean  no  more  rifles  and  no  more  car- 
tridges. The  white  people  of  the  islands  know,  but 
they  keep  their  information  to  themselves.  I  know, 
too,  but  I  am  not  doing  any  talking  either,  for  I  want 
to  go  back  to  the  New  Hebrides  some  day. 

Our  own  boys  remained  close  by  us  all  the  morn- 
ing and  we  kept  sharp  watch  for  any  sign  of  treach- 
ery. By  noon,  the  savages  had  lost  their  suspicion  of 
us.  They  stacked  their  rifles  against  rocks  and  trees 
and  moved  about,  talking  to  each  other  in  their 
strange,  grunting  speech.  We,  too,  moved  about 
more  freely.  And  I  tried  to  gain  the  confidence  of  the 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  67 

natives  by  talking  to  them.  My  attempts  to  learn 
their  language  with  beche-de-mer  as  a  medium 
brought  great  guffaws.  But  in  spite  of  the  friendli- 
ness of  our  visitors,  we  were  never  quite  at  ease. 
Their  appearance  was  against  them.  Their  ugly 
faces  —  eyes  with  scarcely  any  pupils,  flat  noses 
made  twice  their  normal  size  by  the  wooden  plugs 
thrust  through  the  cartilage  dividing  the  nostrils, 
great  mouths  with  thick,  loose  lips  —  their  stealthy 
way  of  walking,  their  coarse,  rapid,  guttural  speech, 
which  sounded  angry  even  when  they  spoke  to  one 
another,  the  quick  gestures  with  which  they  filled  in 
the  gaps  in  their  limited  language  —  none  of  these 
things  tended  to  make  us  feel  at  home. 

I  kept  wondering  how  some  of  Osa's  sheltered 
young  friends  back  home  would  act,  if  they  were  to 
be  set  down,  as  she  was,  on  a  sandy  beach,  miles  from 
civilization,  and  surrounded  with  fierce  cannibals  — 
hideous  and  worse  than  naked;  for  they  worship  sex, 
and  what  clothing  they  wear  calls  attention  to  their 
sex  rather  than  conceals  it.  I  watched  her  admir- 
ingly as  she  went  about  taking  snapshots  as  imcon- 
cernedly  as  if  the  savages  had  been  Boy  Scouts  on  an 
outing.  And  I  thought,  as  I  have  thought  many 
many  times  in  the  nine  years  we  have  gone  about  to- 


68  CANNIBAL-LAND 

gether,  how  lucky  I  was.  Osa  has  all  the  qualities 
that  go  to  make  an  ideal  traveling  companion  for  an 
explorer  —  pluck,  endurance,  cheerfulness  under  dis- 
comfort. In  an  emergency,  I  would  trust  her  far 
sooner  than  I  would  trust  most  men. 

During  the  afternoon,  several  fresh  groups  of  na- 
tives came  out  of  the  jungle  to  stare  at  us,  and  to- 
ward sunset  a  number  of  savages  descended  a  trail 
that  sloped  down  to  the  beach  about  half  a  mile  from 
where  we  were  sitting  and  brought  us  a  message  from 
the  great  chief.  It  was  couched  as  follows:  "Naga- 
pate,  he  big  fellow  master  belong  Big  Numbers.  He, 
he  wantem  you,  you  two  fellow,  you  come  along 
lookem  house  belong  him,  you  lookem  piccaninny 
belong  him,  you  lookem  Mary  belong  him.  He 
makem  big  fellow  sing-sing.  More  good  you,  you 
two  fellow  come.  He  no  makem  bad,  he  makem  good 
altogether."  And  it  meant  that  His  Highness,  Chief 
Nagapate,  would  like  to  have  us  visit  him  in  his  vil- 
lage, and  that  he  guaranteed  our  safety* 

I  accepted  the  invitation  with  alacrity.  The  mes- 
sengers hurried  off,  and  Osa  and  I  followed,  curious  to 
see  where  the  trail  left  the  beach.  We  had  not  gone 
far,  before  Paul  shouted  for  us  to  stop.  We  halted 
and  saw,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the  beach,  a  group 


I 


NAGAPATE  COMES  TO  CALL  69 

of  about  a  hundred  armed  natives.  Some  Big  Num- 
bers people  came  up  to  us  and  warned  us,  with  ges- 
tures, to  go  no  farther,  so  we  sat  down  on  the  sand 
and  awaited  developments.  The  newcomers  squat- 
ted on  the  beach  and  stared  in  our  direction.  In 
about  fifteen  minutes,  a  second  group  of  natives  ap- 
peared from  a  trail  still  farther  down  the  beach,  and 
the  first  group  sprang  to  their  feet  and  melted  into 
the  bush  with  incredible  rapidity. 

What  did  it  all  mean?  Paul,  well  versed  in  island 
lore,  had  the  answer.  The  beach  was  used  jointly  by 
four  tribes,  three  belonging  to  the  Big  Numbers  and 
one  to  the  Small  Numbers  people.  All  of  these  tribes 
are  more  or  less  hostile,  but  they  have  agreed  be- 
tween them  that  the  beach  is  neutral  ground,  for 
they  realize  that  if  fighting  is  permitted  there,  it  will 
never  be  safe  for  any  of  them  to  come  out  into  the 
open  to  trade  or  fish.  Sometimes  the  beach  armistice 
is  violated,  and  for  weeks  there  is  severe  fighting 
along  the  sand;  in  the  end,  however,  the  matter  is  al- 
ways settled  by  an  exchange  of  wild  pigs  and  the 
beach  is  again  safe  for  all  comers.  But  the  armistice 
never  extends  back  into  the  bush.  In  the  jungle  and 
the  tall  cane-grass,  it  is  always  open  season  for  man- 
killing. 


70  CANNIBAL-LAND 

We  returned  to  the  schooner  early  that  eveninj 
in  order  to  make  ready  for  our  trip  into  the  interior. 
I  packed  all  my  photographic  apparatus  carefully  in 
canvas  and  rubber  cases,  and  I  bundled  up  several 
tarpaulins  to  protect  us  and  our  cameras  in  case  of 
sudden  rain.  We  put  up  enough  supplies  to  last 
seven  or  eight  days,  and  a  good  equipment  of  trade- 
stuffs.  As  we  packed,  the  monotonous  chanting  of 
some  twenty  of  Nagapate's  men,  who  had  remained 
on  the  beach  to  escort  us  to  the  village,  drifted 
across  the  water.  Occasionally  we  caught  a  glimpse 
of  them,  grotesque  black  shapes  against  the  light 
from  their  camp-fire. 


I 


CHAPTER  V 

IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM 

Next  morning,  before  daybreak,  we  were  on  the 
beach.  The  embers  of  the  camp-fire  remained,  but 
our  escort  had  vanished.  I  was  filled  with  misgiv- 
ings. Did  Nagapate  plan  treachery?  We  were  thirty- 
one  —  twenty-six  trustworthy  native  boys,  four 
white  men,  and  Osa.  We  were  all  well  equipped 
with  repeating  rifles  and  automatic  pistols.  In  open 
fight,  we  could  have  stood  off  a  thousand  savages. 
But  I  knew  that  the  men  of  Malekula,  though  they 
are  notoriously  bad  shots,  could  pick  us  off  one 
by  one,  if  they  wished,  as  we  went  through  the 
jungle. 

I  suppose  that  we  all  felt  a  little  doubtful  about 
taking  the  plunge  into  the  jungle,  but  we  all  —  with 
the  exception  of  our  native  boys,  who  were  plainly 
in  a  blue  funk  —  kept  our  doubts  to  ourselves.  The 
boys  were  so  frightened  that  they  rebelled  against 
carrying  anything  except  their  guns.  To  inspire 
them  with  confidence,  each  of  us  took  a  piece  of  lug- 
gage, and  then  we  divided  among  them  what  was 
left  and  persuaded  them  to  take  the  trail. 


72  CANNIBAL-LAND 

It  was  dawn  on  the  beach,  but  it  was  still  night  in 
the  jungle.  The  trail  was  a  dark  tunnel  with  walls 
and  roof  of  underbrush  and  trees  and  tangled  vines. 
We  stumbled  along  blindly  at  first.  Presently  our 
eyes  became  used  to  the  dark  and  we  walked  with 
more  ease.  Stems  and  thorns  caught  at  our  clothes 
as  we  passed.  We  slipped  on  wet,  slimy  roots  and 
stumbled  over  them  in  the  dim  light.  Only  where 
the  jungle  was  intersected  by  one  of  the  numerous 
streams  —  swift  but  shallow  and  never  too  wide  for 
leaping  —  that  water  the  island,  did  the  light  suc- 
ceed in  struggling  weakly  through  the  tangle. 

The  New  Hebridean  jungle  is  different  from  that 
of  India  or  Africa.  The  severe  hurricanes  that  sweep 
over  the  islands  each  year  have  stunted  growth. 
There  are  no  forest  giants.  Trees  send  their  branches 
out  rather  than  up,  forming  a  dense  mass  of  vegeta- 
tion that  is  further  bound  together  by  vines,  so  that 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  penetrate  the  jungle  save  by 
beaten  trails  or  along  the  courses  of  streams. 

The  sun  was  well  up  when  we  came  out  on  the 
first  of  a  series  of  plateaus  that  formed  a  giant  stair- 
way up  the  mountain.  They  were  separated  from 
one  another  by  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  yards  of 
scrub  trees  and  tangled  bush.  It  was  not  easy  going. 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  73 

The  ascents  were  steep,  and  the  trail  was  wet  and 
sHppery. 

We  kept  watch  for  treacherous  natives.  Once  we 
were  startled  by  blood-curdling  cries  that  came  from 
the  direction  in  which  we  were  going.  Our  boys  said 
the  men  of  Malekula  were  hunting  wild  pigs.  We 
went  on  in  silence.  Our  hearts  jumped  every  time  a 
twig  cracked.  There  was  a  set  expression  on  Osa's 
face.  I  knew  she  was  frightened,  but  I  knew,  too, 
that  no  amount  of  money  would  have  persuaded  her 
to  turn  back. 

By  noon  we  had  reached  what  seemed  to  be  the 
highest  point  of  northern  Malekula,  and  looked  back 
over  valley  after  valley  of  dense  jungle,  and  plateau 
after  plateau  covered  with  cane-grass.  Here  and 
there  a  coconut  tree  stood  out  alone.  Smoke,  curl- 
ing out  of  the  hillsides,  indicated  the  sites  of  native 
villages.  Perhaps,  at  that  very  moment,  gruesome 
feasts  of  human  flesh  were  being  prepared.  In  the 
bay,  very  small  and  very  far  off,  were  three  black 
dots  —  our  boats. 

We  heard  a  sound  behind  us  and  quickly  turned. 
There  were  some  twenty  men,  sent  by  the  "big  fel- 
low master  belong  Big  Numbers."  They  took  our 
apparatus  and  indicated  that  we  were  to  follow  them. 


74  CANNIBAL-LAND 

We  were  dead  tired;  still  there  seemed  nothing  to  do 
but  to  push  on. 

We  were  not  sorry,  after  about  a  mile,  to  approach 
a  village.  First  we  came  upon  scattered  groves  of  co- 
conut and  banana  trees.  Our  trail  became  wider  and 
harder  and  we  passed  weed-grown  patches  of  yams 
and  taro,  protected  against  the  wild  pigs  by  rude 
walls  of  bamboo.  Finally  we  came  out  upon  a  clear- 
ing around  which  clustered  a  few  wretched  shelters 
thatched  roughly  with  leaves.  In  the  center  of  the 
clearing  stood  upright  hollow  logs  —  the  drums  used 
to  send  messages  from  village  to  village  and  to  fur- 
nish music  for  the  native  dances.  The  natives  called 
them  boo-boos  —  the  name  given  to  conch-shells 
and  all  other  sound-making  instruments.  On  the 
hard  ground  of  the  clearing  sat  some  thirty  savages^ 
all  well  armed.  They  had  apparently  been  watching 
for  us,  but  they  did  not  greet  us.  We  spoke  to  them, 
but,  beyond  a  few  grunts,  they  made  no  reply. 
There  were  no  women  and  children  in  sight.  That 
was  a  bad  sign;  for  the  women  and  children  are  sent 
away  only  when  there  is  trouble  in  the  air.  Perrole, 
Stephens,  and  Mazouyer  drew  nearer  to  Osa  and  me. 
Their  faces  were  grave.  Our  boys  edged  close  to  us. 
None  of  us  spoke. 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  75 

After  a  short  rest,  our  guides  indicated  that  we 
were  to  take  the  trail  again.  We  pushed  on  over  a 
muddy  path,  bordered  by  coconut  and  banana  trees, 
and  in  about  fifteen  minutes  we  came  out  upon  an- 
other clearing,  much  larger  than  the  first,  with  many 
more  huts  surrounding  it  and  with  more  and  bigger 
boo-boos  in  the  center.  Here  again  were  savages 
awaiting  us  —  about  two  hundred  of  them,  each  with 
a  gun.  We  were  led  to  a  big  boo-boo  that  had  been 
overturned  by  the  wind  and  were  told  to  sit  down. 
We  obeyed  like  obedient  school-children. 

One  of  the  natives  beat  out  on  a  boo-boo  an  irregu- 
lar boom-boom-boom  that  roared  through  the  clear- 
ing and  was  echoed  back  from  the  hills.  It  sounded 
like  a  code.  We  felt  that  it  might  be  a  summons  to 
the  executioner.  Osa  huddled  close  to  me.  A  still- 
ness fell  over  the  assembly. 

Suddenly,  at  the  far  side  of  the  clearing,  a  huge  sav- 
age appeared.  It  was  Nagapate.  He  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment, looking  over  the  audience;  then  he  walked 
slowly  and  majestically  into  the  center  of  the  clear- 
ing. He  roared  a  few  words  to  his  men.  Then  he 
turned  to  us.  A  native  came  running  up  —  the  lazi- 
est black  stepped  lively  when  Nagapate  commanded 
—  with  a  block  of  wood  for  a  throne.  The  chief  sat 


76  CANNIBAL-LAND 

down  near  us,  and  we  stepped  forward  and  shook 
hands  with  him.  He  had  grown  used  to  this  form  of 
greeting  and  responded  with  graciousness. 

It  had  been  a  wonderful  entrance.  But  then  Na- 
gapate  had  an  instinct  for  the  dramatic.  Through- 
out our  stay  in  his  village,  I  noticed,  he  never  made 
a  move  that  was  not  staged.  He  let  it  be  known  by 
his  every  act  that  he  was  no  common  chief,  who  had 
won  his  position  through  skill  in  killing  pigs  or  men. 
Nagapate  was  a  king  and  a  descendant  of  kings. 
His  was  the  only  tribe  I  had  come  across  during  my 
travels  among  the  blacks  of  the  South  Pacific  that 
had  an  hereditary  ruler. 

After  he  had  greeted  us,  he  uttered  a  sharp  com- 
mand and  a  native  stepped  up  with  a  big  bamboo 
water-bottle.  Nagapate  drank  from  it,  and  then  the 
native  offered  it,  tilted  at  the  proper  angle,  to  each 
of  us  in  turn.  It  was  not  pleasant  to  drink  from  the 
mouthpiece  at  which  Nagapate's  great  lips  had  j 
sucked.  But  we  gathered  that  the  bottle  was  the  * 
South  Sea  equivalent  of  a  pipe  of  peace;  so  we  drank 
gladly.  I  then  presented  to  Nagapate  a  royal  gift 
of  knives,  calico,  and  tobacco,  and  I  told  one  of  the 
boys  to  give  two  sticks  of  tobacco  to  each  native. 

The  natives  smoked  their  tobacco  Cthose  that  did 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  77 

not  eat  it)  at  once  and  greedily.  It  seemed  to  break 
the  ice  a  bit;  so  I  got  out  my  cameras.  For  three 
hours,  I  made  pictures.  But  I  did  not  get  any  "ac- 
tion." I  wanted  a  picture  of  a  man  coming  out  of  his 
house;  for  the  doors  of  the  huts  are  so  low  that  the 
people  have  to  come  out  on  all  fours.  I  persuaded 
a  native  to  go  into  his  hut  and  come  out  again. 
He  did  so.  But  his  companions  laughed  and  jeered 
at  him,  and  after  that  every  one  had  stage  fright. 

As  the  afternoon  wore  on,  scores  of  women  and 
children  appeared.  I  have  never  seen  human  beings 
more  wretched  than  those  women.  At  first  sight 
they  looked  like  walking  haystacks.  They  wore 
dresses  of  purple  dyed  grasses,  consisting  of  a  bushy 
skirt  that  hung  from  the  waist  to  the  knees,  a  sort  of 
widow's  veil  that  was  thrown  over  the  head  and  face 
so  as  to  leave  a  tiny  peep-hole  for  the  wearer  to  look 
through,  and  a  long  train  that  hung  down  the  back 
nearly  to  the  ground.  A  more  cumbersome  and  in- 
sanitary dress  was  never  devised.  It  was  heavy.  It 
was  hot.  Worst  of  all,  it  was  dirty.  Every  one  of 
the  dresses  was  matted  with  filth.  I  did  not  see  a 
single  pig  —  and  there  were  dozens  of  them  rooting 
about  inside  and  outside  the  houses  —  that  was  so 
dirty  as  the  women  of  that  village.  I  afterward  found 


78  CANNIBAL-LAND 

that  for  women  to  wash  was  strictly  taboo.  From 
birth  to  death  water  never  touched  their  skins ! 

I  got  my  cameras  ready,  but  the  women  hid  in  the 
houses  and  would  not  come  out  to  be  photographed. 
Not  until  Nagapate  commanded  them  to  come  into 
the  clearing  did  they  creep  whimpering  in  terror 
from  the  low  doors. 

We  had  heard  from  the  natives  at  our  headquar- 
ters on  the  island  of  Vao  that  Nagapate  had  a  hun- 
dred wives,  but  there  were  only  ten  of  them,  and 
they  were  as  wretched  as  any  of  the  other  women. 
Osa  presented  them  each  with  a  string  of  beads  and 
a  small  glass  jar  of  cheap  candy.  They  did  not  even 
look  at  their  gifts.  They  wanted  only  to  get  the  or- 
deal over  and  to  escape.  During  all  our  stay  in  the 
village  the  poor,  browbeaten  wretches  never  got  up 
enough  courage  to  look  at  us.  Their  lords  and  mas- 
ters felt  our  skins  and  our  hair  and  our  clothes,  ex- 
amining us  with  embarrassing  freedom.  But  when- 
ever we  came  upon  a  woman,  she  squatted  down  and 
hid  her  face  behind  her  grass  veil. 

Since  the  women  and  children  had  appeared,  we 
gained  confidence  and  walked  about  the  village,  in- 
specting the  houses.  As  we  approached,  the  children, 
scrawny  little  wretches,  big-bellied  from  malnutri- 


1 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  79 

tion  and  many  of  them  covered  with  sores,  scurried 
off  into  the  bush  Hke  frightened  rabbits.  The  houses 
were  wretched  huts  made  of  poles  with  a  covering  of 
leaves  and  grass,  or,  occasionally,  of  woven  bamboo. 
Inside  were  the  embers  of  fires  —  nothing  more.  A 
hard,  worn  place  on  the  ground  in  one  corner  showed 
where  the  owner  slept.  Nagapate's  house  stood  off  by 
itself.  It  was  larger  than  the  rest  and  more  com- 
pactly made.  But  it  was  as  bare  as  any  of  the  others. 
Toward  sunset  we  built  a  fire  and  cooked  our  sup- 
per. The  natives  gathered  around  and  watched  us  in 
astonishment.  They  themselves  made  no  such  elab- 
orate preparation  for  eating.  Once  in  a  while  a  man 
would  kindle  a  fire  and  throw  a  few  yams  among  the 
coals.  When  the  yams  were  burned  black  on  one 
side,  he  would  turn  them  with  a  stick  and  burn  them 
on  the  other.  Then  they  were  ready  for  eating  —  the 
outside  burned  crisp  and  the  inside  raw.  One  eve- 
ning some  of  the  men  brought  in  some  little  pigs, 
broke  their  legs,  so  that  they  could  not  escape,  and 
threw  them,  squealing,  into  a  corner  of  a  hut.  The 
next  day  there  was  meat  to  eat.  Like  the  yams,  it 
was  only  half -cooked.  The  natives  tore  it  with  their 
teeth  as  if  they  had  been  animals,  and  they  seemed 
especially  to  relish  the  crisp,  burned  portions.  Each 


I 


80  CANNIBAL-LAND 

man  was  his  own  cook.  Even  Nagapate  made  his 
own  fire  and  cooked  his  own  food,  for  it  was  taboo 
for  him  to  eat  anything  prepared  by  an  inferior  or 
cooked  over  a  fire  made  by  an  inferior.  He  conven- 
iently considered  us  his  superiors  and  ate  greedily 
everything  we  gave  him.  He  never  shared  the  salmon 
and  rice  he  got  from  us  either  with  his  cronies  or 
with  his  wives.  In  fact,  we  never  saw  a  woman  eat- 
ing, and  the  children  seemed  to  live  on  sugar-cane 
and  on  clay  that  they  dug  up  with  their  skinny  little 
fingers. 

Our  first  day  as  Nagapate's  guests  drew  to  an  end. 
Just  before  dark  a  native  came  and  motioned  to  us  to 
follow  him.  He  led  us  to  a  new  house  and  indicated 
that  we  were  to  make  ourselves  at  home  there.  We 
were  tired  out  after  our  long  march;  so  we  turned 
in  without  delay.  We  spread  our  blankets  on  the 
ground  and  lay,  fully  dressed,  on  top  of  them.  The 
camp  soon  became  quiet,  but  we  could  not  sleep.  So 
far,  everything  had  gone  well,  but  still  we  did  not 
feel  quite  safe.  Our  boys  seemed  to  share  our  appre- 
hension. They  crowded  around  the  hut,  as  close  to 
us  as  they  could  get.  Some  of  them  slipped  under 
the  grass  walls  and  lay  half  inside  the  hut. 

We  slept  little  and  were  up  before  dawn,  stiff  from 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  81 

lying  on  the  hard  ground.  We  asked  for  water,  and 
a  native  brought  it  in  a  bamboo  bottle.  There  was 
about  a  pint  of  water  for  each  of  the  five  of  us.  The 
savage  that  brought  it  looked  on  astonished  as  we 
washed  our  hands  and  faces.  It  is  not  taboo  for  the 
Big  Numbers  men  to  bathe  —  but  they  rarely  use 
their  privilege,  and  they  could  not  understand  our 
reckless  waste  of  water,  which  was  carried  by  the 
women  from  a  spring  half  a  mile  away. 

After  a  breakfast  of  tinned  beef,  we  set  to  work. 
But  if  it  had  been  hard  to  get  good  pictures  the  day 
before,  it  was  now  almost  impossible.  The  women 
had  all  left  the  village  to  get  the  day's  supply  of 
water,  fruits,  and  firewood.  The  men  squatted  in  the 
center  of  the  clearing,  guns  in  hand.  They  were  ap- 
parently waiting  for  something  —  for  what? 

We  were  uneasy.  It  may  seem  to  the  reader,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  we  escaped  with  whole  skins, 
that  we  were  absurdly  uneasy.  But  I  should  like  to 
see  the  man  who  could  remain  calm  when  surrounded 
as  we  were  by  savages,  ugly  and  powerful,  whose 
only  pleasure  was  murder,  and  who,  we  were  con- 
vinced, were  eaters  of  human  flesh.  All  day  long  our 
hosts  squatted  about  the  giant  boo-boos,  staring  at 
us  or  at  the  groimd  or  at  the  jungle  or,  sometimes. 


82  CANNIBAL-LAND 

it  seemed,  at  nothing  at  all.  Now  and  then  a  single 
savage  would  come  out  of  the  jungle  and  join  the 
group,  and  immediately  one  of  the  squatters  would 
get  up  and  go  into  the  bush,  taking  the  trail  by 
which  the  newcomer  had  arrived.  Even  Paul  was 
troubled,  and  confided  to  me,  when  the  others  were 
not  about,  "Me  no  hke." 

The  coming  and  going  and  interminable  squat- 
ting and  staring  got  on  the  nerves  of  all  of  us.  To- 
ward evening,  we  received  an  explanation  of  it  from 
Atree,  Nagapate's  "private  secretary."  Atree  had 
been  "  blackbirded "  away  from  the  island  about 
twelve  years  previous  to  our  arrival,  in  the  days 
when  natives  were  still  carried  off  by  force  for  ser- 
vitude on  the  plantations  of  Queensland;  and,  by 
some  miracle,  when  the  all-white  Australia  law  had 
gone  into  effect  and  the  blacks  had  been  "repatri- 
ated," he  had  made  his  way  back  to  his  own  island. 
He  had  managed,  during  his  sojourn  abroad,  to  pick 
up  a  little  beche-de-mer;  so  he  acted  as  go-between 
and  interpreter  in  all  our  dealings  with  Nagapate. 
He  told  us  that  a  fight  with  a  neighboring  village  was 
brewing.  There  had  been  a  dispute  over  some  pigs, 
in  which  somebody  had  got  hurt.  The  relatives  of 
the  victim  were  preparing  to  attack  our  hosts.  The 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  83 

men  who  had  come  and  gone  from  the  clearing  were 
the  lookouts  who  guarded  the  village  against  sur- 
prise. 

A  fight!  My  first  thought  was,  "What  a  picture 
I'll  get!"  But  Osa,  at  my  elbow,  said  miserably,  "I 
wish  we  were  back  in  the  boat,"  and  my  conscience 
began  to  hurt.  To  reassure  her  I  told  her  that  our 
force  was  a  match  for  half  a  dozen  native  villages. 

Before  sunset  there  was  great  activity  in  the  clear- 
ing. Men  kept  coming  and  going,  and  there  was 
much  grunted  consultation  in  the  shadow  of  the 
boo-boos.  All  that  night  an  armed  guard  stood 
watch. 

At  sunrise,  Nagapate  came  and  asked  if  we  would 
shoot  off  our  guns  to  frighten  the  enemy.  I  did  not 
like  the  idea.  I  thought  it  might  be  a  ruse  to  get  us 
to  empty  our  guns  and  to  give  the  natives  a  chance 
to  rush  on  us  before  we  could  reload.  However, 
since  we  did  not  wish  to  seem  suspicious,  we  granted 
the  request.  But  we  fired  in  rotation,  instead  of  in  a 
volley,  so  that  there  would  always  be  some  among  us 
with  ready  rifles.  And  I  found  that  I  was  not  the 
only  one  who  had  thought  of  the  danger  of  empty 
cartridge-chambers:  I  have  never  seen  such  snappy 
reloading  as  that  of  our  black  boys! 


84  CANNIBAL-LAND 

After  the  volley,  I  gave  Nagapate  my  rifle  to 
shoot.  He  unloaded  her  as  fast  as  he  could  pull  the 
trigger,  and  begged  for  more,  like  an  eager  small 
boy.  I  was  sorry  to  refuse  him,  but  I  did  not  care  to 
waste  many  cartridges,  so  I  explained  through  Atree 
that  the  gun  had  to  cool  off,  and  Nagapate,  to  my 
relief,  seemed  satisfied  with  the  explanation. 

After  the  shooting  was  over,  everybody  seemed  to 
take  courage.  The  natives  moved  about  more  freely. 
Only  about  a  third  remained  armed  and  ready  for 
summons.  They  were  apparently  satisfied  that  their 
enemies,  convinced  that  they  were  well  supplied 
with  ammunition,  would  be  afraid  to  start  hostili-  I 
ties.  We  ourselves  were  more  at  ease,  and  I  went  up 
to  some  of  the  soldiers  and  examined  their  fighting 
equipment.  'Their  guns  were,  as  usual,  old  and  rusty,  | 
but  they  all  had  cartridges,  which  they  carried  in 
leather  cartridge  cases  slung  over  their  shoulders.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  that  none  had  clubs.  Instead, 
they  had  big  knives,  some  of  them  three  feet  long, 
for  hand-to-hand  fighting.  Paul  told  me  that  such 
knives  had  become  the  most  sought-for  articles  of 
trade.  There  was  no  Government  ban  on  them  as  on 
rifles  and  cartridges. 

On  the  afternoon  of  our  fourth  day  in  the  village, 


il 


RAMBI 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  85 

Nagapate  brought  up  a  man  we  had  not  seen  before. 
He  was  nearly  as  large  as  Nagapate  himself,  and  had, 
like  Nagapate,  an  air  of  commanding  dignity. 

"Rambi!  Rambi!"  growled  Nagapate,  pointing 
to  his  companion.  Then  the  chief  went  through  a 
rapid  pantomime,  in  which  he  seemed  to  kill  off  a 
whole  army  of  enemies.  We  gathered  that  Rambi 
was  minister  of  war,  as  indeed  he  was;  but  Osa 
dubbed  him  chief  of  police.  We  learned  from  Paul 
that  the  tribe  was  ruled  by  a  sort  of  triumvirate, 
with  Nagapate  in  supreme  command  and  Rambi 
and  a  third  chief  named  Velle-Velle,  who  acted  as  a 
primitive  prime  minister,  next  in  authority. 

Rambi  was  a  Godsend.  He  enjoyed  being  photo- 
graphed, although  he  did  not  have  the  slightest  idea 
of  what  the  operation  meant.  He  forgot  his  dignity 
and  capered  like  a  monkey  in  front  of  my  camera  and 
actually  succeeded  in  injecting  a  little  enthusiasm 
into  the  rest  of  the  natives,  who  still  suffered  from 
stage  fright. 

I  gave  presents  of  tobacco  for  every  picture  I 
made.  I  must  have  paid  out  several  dollars'  worth 
of  tobacco  each  day.  Ten  years  earlier,  when  I  was 
on  the  Snark  with  Jack  London,  trade  tobacco  made 
from  the  stalks  and  refuse  from  the  Virginia  tobacco 


86  CANNIBAL-LAND 

factories  had  cost  less  than  a  cent  a  stick.  The  su] 
ply  I  had  with  me  in  Malekula  had  cost  almost  four 
cents  a  stick.  Thus  the  high  cost  of  living  makes  it- 
self felt  even  in  the  South  Seas.  Tinned  foods,  cai 
tridges,  gasoline,  mirrors,  knives,  and  calico  also  have* 
increased  in  price  enormously  since  the  war.  An  ex- 
plorer must  expect  his  expenses  to  be  just  about  four 
hundred  per  cent  higher  than  they  were  ten  years 
ago.  And  the  trader  is  in  a  bad  way.  For  the  na- 
tives learned  how  to  value  trade-stuffs  years  ago  and 
they  insist  on  buying  at  the  old  rate.  Increased 
costs  and  greater  diflSculty  of  transportation  mean 
nothing  to  them. 

On  the  next  day,  we  went,  with  an  escort  of  se^ 
eral  of  Nagapate's  men,  to  another  Big  Numbers 
village  about  four  miles  away.  That  trip  was  typi- 
cal of  the  many  downs  that  are  mingled  with  the  ups 
in  a  motion-picture  man's  existence.  The  four  miles 
were  the  hardest  four  miles  I  ever  walked.  The  trail 
lay  along  the  side  of  a  hill,  following  a  deep  valley. 
It  was  seldom  used,  and  it  slanted  toward  the  valley 
in  an  alarming  way.  It  was  slimy  with  mud  and  de- 
cayed vegetation,  and  in  many  places  a  slip  would 
have  meant  a  slide  of  several  hundred  feet  down  a 
steep  hill.    Both  Osa   and  I  had  on  spiked  boots. 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  87 

but  they  soon  became  clogged  with  mud  and  offered 
less  grip  than  ordinary  shoes.  We  crept  along  at  a 
snail's  pace,  testing  every  foothold.  Though  we  left 
Nagapate's  village  at  dawn,  we  did  not  reach  our  des- 
tination until  after  ten  o'clock.  It  was  a  poor  and 
uninteresting  village  of  about  thirty  houses.  Most 
of  the  men  were  off  on  a  pig  hunt,  and  all  the  women 
were  out  collecting  firewood  and  fruits  and  vege- 
tables. About  noon,  it  began  to  drizzle.  By  three 
o'clock,  it  had  settled  down  to  a  good  downpour. 
The  women  straggled  in  one  by  one  and  retreated 
into  their  houses.  The  men  returned  in  a  sullen  hu- 
mor, with  a  few  skinny  pigs.  According  to  custom, 
they  broke  one  hind  leg  and  one  front  leg  of  each  an- 
imal to  prevent  its  escape  and  threw  the  wretched  lit- 
tle creatures  in  a  squalling,  moaning  heap.  Those  on 
the  bottom  probably  suffocated  before  morning. 

We  could  not  think  of  retracing  our  steps  over  the 
treacherous  trail  in  that  downpour;  so  we  persuaded 
a  native  and  his  wife  and  two  sore-faced  children  to 
give  up  their  hut  to  us.  Since  we  had  no  blankets,  we 
lay  on  the  hard  ground  and  made  the  best  of  a  bad 
bargain. 

Next  morning,  the  rain  had  ceased.  But  the  cane- 
grass  was  as  wet  as  a  sponge.   We  had  not  gone  a 


88  CANNIBAL-LAND 

hundred  yards  toward  Nagapate's  village  before  we 
were  soaked  through.  The  trail  was  more  slippery 
than  ever.  About  every  quarter  of  a  mile  we  had  to 
stop  and  rest.  The  sun  came  out  boiling  hot  and 
sucked  up  the  moisture,  which  rose  like  steam  all 
about  us.  We  were  five  hours  in  this  natural  Turk- 
ish bath.  When  we  reached  our  destination,  we 
threw  ourselves  down  and  fell  asleep  in  sheer  ex- 
haustion. We  had  not  secured  a  single  foot  of  film, 
and  we  felt  miserably  that  we  stood  a  very  good 
chance  of  contracting  fever,  which  so  far  we  had 
luckily  escaped. 

Late  that  afternoon,  I  missed  Osa.  I  had  some- 
thing of  a  hunt  for  her,  but  I  finally  found  her  in  the 
shade  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  playing  with  a  little 
naked  piccaninny.  Atree  and  Nagapate  squatted 
near  by,  watching  her  with  grave,  intent  faces. 

Nagapate  was  Osa's  constant  companion.  The 
great  chief  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  white  "Mary." 
Every  day  he  sent  her  gifts,  and  his  yams  and  fruits 
and  coconuts  pleased  her  more  than  if  they  had  been 
expensive  presents  of  civilization.  They  seemed  to 
her  an  assurance  of  jhis  good-will.  But  the  rest  of 
us  were  a  bit  uneasy.  We  had  what  I  now  believe  to 
be  the  absurd  suspicion  that  all  these  gifts  were  to- 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  89 

kens  of  savage  wooing  —  that  perhaps  Nagapate 
was  planning  to  massacre  us,  if  the  occasion  offered, 
and  keep  Osa  to  share  his  wretched  hut.  The  strain 
of  constant  watching,  constant  suspicion,  was  tell- 
ing on  our  nerves.  We  fancied  that  the  novelty  of 
our  presence  was  wearing  off.  Like  children,  the  sav- 
ages soon  weary  of  a  diversion.  We  were  becoming 
familiar  - —  dangerously  familiar  —  to  them,  and  our 
gifts  and  even  the  magic  taught  me  by  the  great 
Houdini,  had  begun  to  pall.  We  began  to  feel  that  it 
was  time  for  us  to  go. 

Osa  and  I  talked  it  over  as  we  walked  about  the 
village  the  following  afternoon.  We  strayed  farther 
than  usual  and  suddenly  found  ourselves  near  what 
seemed  to  be  a  deserted  hut.  We  walked  around  it 
and  found,  on  the  far  side,  a  well-beaten  path  that 
led  to  a  tiny  door.  Without  thinking,  I  crawled 
through  the  doorway,  and  Osa  followed  me.  It  was 
several  seconds  before  our  eyes  became  accustomed 
to  the  dim  light.  Suddenly  Osa  gasped  and  clutched 
my  arm. 

All  about  us,  piled  in  baskets,  were  dried  human 

/  heads.    A  ghastly  frieze  of  them  grinned  about  the 

eaves.  Skulls  hung  from  the  rafters,  heaps  of  picked 

human  bones  lay  in  the  corners.    One  glance  was 


90  CANNIBAL-LAND  ^ 

enough  for  us.  We  crawled  out  of  the  hut  and  lost 
no  time  in  getting  back  to  the  center  of  the  village. 
Luckily  none  of  the  savages  had  seen  us. 

We  gathered  Paul  Mazouyer  and  Perrole  and  Ste- 
phens about  us  and  told  them  of  our  adventure,  and 
it  did  not  take  the  conference  long  to  decide  to  re- 
tiu-n  to  the  beach  on  the  following  day.  The  other 
white  men  told  us  that  if  we  had  been  seen  in  or  near 
the  head-house,  the  chances  were  that  we  should  all 
have  been  murdered,  for  such  houses  were  sacred 
and  taboo  to  all,  save  the  men  of  the  village. 

That  evening  a  great  fire  was  started  in  the  clear- 
ing. Until  late  in  the  night  the  ordinarily  lazy  sav- 
ages piled  on  great  logs  that  four  men  were  re- 
quired to  carry.  Nothing  was  cooked  over  the  fire. 
It  was  not  needed  for  warmth,  for  the  night  was  sti- 
fling hot.  We  asked  Arree  the  reason  for  the  illumi- 
nation. He  replied  that  he  did  not  know.  We  decided 
that  there  must  be  some  sinister  purpose  in  it  and  lay 
sleepless,  on  guard  the  night  through. 

At  dawn  we  were  up.  We  did  our  packing  in  a  hurry, 
and  then  we  sent  one  of  the  natives  for  Nagapate. 
The  chief  came  across  the  clearing,  slowly  and  delib- 
erately, as  always.  With  him  was  a  tottering  old  man, 
the  oldest  native  I  ever  saw  in  the  New  Hebrides. 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  91 

As  Osa  and  I  went  up  to  greet  Nagapate,  the  old 
man  began  to  jabber  excitedly.  He  came  over  to 
me  and  felt  my  arms  and  legs  with  both  his  skinny 
hands.  He  pinched  me  and  poked  me  in  the  ribs  and 
stomach.  All  the  time  he  kept  up  a  running  fire  of 
excited  comment,  addressed  to  Nagapate.  To  our 
relief,  he  finally  stopped  talking  for  want  of  breath. 
Nagapate  spoke  a  few  sharp  words  and  the  old  man 
/  backed  away. 

Osa's  face  went  white.  And  indeed,  there  could  be 
no  doubt  about  the  meaning  of  the  old  native's  pan- 
tomime. I  almost  doubted  the  advisability  of  telling 
Nagapate  of  our  departure.  If  he  liked,  he  could  pre- 
vent us  from  ever  reaching  the  sea,  from  which  we 
were  separated  by  so  many  miles  of  jungle.  But  I 
decided  to  take  a  chance.  I  had,  by  this  time,  rather 
more  than  a  smattering  of  the  language  of  Nagapate's 
tribe.  I  always  make  it  a  practice,  when  among  new 
tribes,  to  learn  four  words  —  "Yes,"  "no,"  "good," 
and  "bad."  The  language  spoken  by  Nagapate  and 
his  followers  was  so  primitive  and  contained  so  many 
repetitions  that  I  had  been  able  to  progress  beyond 
these  four  fundamental  words  and  so,  with  the  aid  of 
gestures,  I  succeeded  in  telling  Nagapate  that  our 
provisions  had  run  out  and  that  we  had  to  return  to 


92  CANNIBAL-LAND 

our  boats.  To  my  surprise  Nagapate  not  only  as- 
sented to  our  departure,  but  volunteered  to  accom- 
pany us  to  the  beach. 

I  invited  the  entire  village  to  come  to  the  beac 
for  motion-pictures  and  tobacco,  after  sunset,  on  the 
following  evening.  Motion-pictures  meant  nothing 
to  them;  but  tobacco  they  understood.  So  they 
agreed  to  come.  We  left  like  honored  guests,  with 
an  escort  of  twenty-five  savages.  Nagapate  himself 
walked  (as  a  result  of  my  maneuvering)  safe  between 
Osa  and  myself. 

It  had  taken  twelve  hours  to  climb  up  to  Nag 
pate's  village.  The  return  journey  required  only 
three.  It  was  a  pleasant  morning's  walk.  The  sun 
was  shining  bright  and  beautiful,  many-colored 
birds  fluttered  about  us. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  beach,  we  invited  Naga- 
pate and  his  boon  companions,  Atree  and  Rambi,  to 
come  on  board  the  schooner.  There  we  feasted  them 
on  hard-tack  and  white  salmon.  When  bedtime 
came,  the  great  chief  indicated  that  it  was  his  pleas- 
ure to  sleep  on  board.  I  was  heartily  astonished  and 
a  little  ashamed.  After  all  our  suspicions,  Nagapate 
was  again  voluntarily  putting  himself  into  our 
hands,  with  the  touching  confidence  of  a  little  child. 


M 


IN  NAGAPATE'S  KINGDOM  93 

Our  royal  guest  and  his  men  bunked  in  the  engine- 
room.  I  happened  to  wake  about  midnight  and  took 
a  peep  at  them.  There  they  were,  flat  on  their  backs 
on  the  hard,  greasy  floor,  sleeping  like  logs. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BIG  NUMBERS  SEE  THEMSELVES  ON  THE 
SCREEN 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  show,  we  got  the  whale- 
boats  to  work  and  took  all  my  projection  machinery 
ashore.  Soon  I  had  everything  set  up,  ready  for  the 
show.  But  when  I  tried  out  the  projector  to  see  if  it 
was  shipshape,  I  found  that  my  generator  was  out  of 
order.  Work  as  I  would,  I  could  not  get  a  light.  I  was 
blue  and  discouraged.  I  had  been  looking  forward  to 
this  show  for  two  years,  and  now,  apparently,  it  was 
not  going  to  come  off.  Imagine  going  back  several 
hundred  thousand  years  and  showing  men  of  the 
Stone  Age  motion-pictures  of  themselves.  That  is 
what  I  had  planned  to  do.  For  the  men  of  Malekula 
are  in  the  stage  of  development  reached  by  our  own 
ancestors  long  before  the  dawn  of  written  history. 
Through  my  pictures  of  them,  I  had  carried  New 
York  audiences  back  into  the  Stone  Age.  Now  I 
wanted  to  transport  the  savages  into  1919  —  and 
my  generator  would  not  work. 

The  projector  was  worked  by  man-power.   Two 
men  on  each  side  turned  the  handles  attached  to  the 


BIG  NUMBERS  ON  THE  SCREEN      95 

machinery  that  should  produce  the  magic  Hght;  but 
though  my  boys  ground  patiently  all  afternoon,  not 
a  glimmer  showed.  Finally,  I  gave  up  and  motioned 
them  to  stop.  They  misunderstood  me  and,  think- 
ing that  I  wanted  them  to  turn  faster,  went  to  work 
with  redoubled  energy.  The  miracle  happened  — 
the  light  flashed  on.  In  my  excitement,  I  forgot  my 
supper. 

The  beach  was  already  crowded  with  savages.  I 
had  thought  they  might  be  curious  about  my  ma- 
chinery. But  they  scarcely  looked  at  it.  They  just 
squatted  on  the  sands  with  their  guns  clutched  tight 
in  their  hands.  No  women  and  only  three  or  four 
children  accompanied  them.  In  spite  of  my  promise 
of  tobacco,  they  had  not  quite  trusted  my  invitation 
and  they  were  on  the  lookout  for  foul  play.  By  dark 
they  were  restless.  They  had  received  no  tobacco. 
They  did  not  understand  all  this  preparation  that 
culminated  in  nothing.  They  wanted  action. 

I  saw  that  the  show  must  begin  at  once;  so  I 
tested  everything  once  more.  Since  I  had  no  idea 
how  the  pictures  would  be  received,  I  stationed  armed 
guards  at  each  side  of  the  screen  and  around  the  pro- 
jector, at  points  from  which  they  could  cover  the  au- 
dience. Then  I  tried  to  persuade  my  visitors  to  sit  in 


96  -      CANNIBAL-LAND 

front  of  the  projector,  where  they  would  get  a  good 
view  of  the  screen.  They  were  now  thoroughly  sus- 
picious and  would  not  stay  where  I  put  them.  They 
wanted  to  keep  an  eye  on  me.  They  were  so  uneasy 
that  I  expected  to  see  them  disappear  into  the  bush 
at  any  moment.  But  Osa  saved  the  situation.  She 
took  Nagapate  by  the  arm  and  made  him  sit  down  \ 
beside  her.  The  rest  of  the  savages  gathered  about 
them.  Then  the  show  began.  f 

First,  a  great  bright  square  flashed  on  the  screen. 
Then  came  a  hundred  feet  of  titles.  The  attention 
of  the  natives  was  divided  between  the  strange  let- 
ters and  the  rays  of  white  light  that  passed  above 
their  heads.  They  looked  forward  and  up  and  back 
toward  me,  jabbering  all  the  time.  Then  slowly,  out 
of  nothing,  a  familiar  form  took  shape  on  the  screen. 
It  was  Osa,  standing  with  bent  head.  The  savages 
were  silent  with  amazement.  Here  was  Osa  sitting 
at  Nagapate's  side  —  and  there  she  was  on  the 
screen.  The  picture-Osa  raised  her  head  and  winked 
at  them.  Pandemonium  broke  loose.  "  Osa  —  Osa 
—  Osa  —  Osa,"  shouted  the  savages.  They  roared 
with  laughter  and  screamed  like  rowdy  children. 

I  had  been  afraid  that  my  guests  would  be  fright- 
ened and   bolt  at  the  first  demonstration  of  my 


i 


BIG  NUMBERS  ON  THE  SCREEN      97 

"magic,"  but  they  had  been  reassured  by  the  famil- 
iar sight  of  Osa.  Now  they  were  ready  for  anything. 
I  showed  them  a  picture  of  Osa  and  me  as  we  left  the 
Astor  Hotel  in  New  York.  Then  I  showed  them 
the  crazy  thousands  that  had  crowded  New  York 
streets  on  Armistice  Day.  I  followed  this  picture 
with  glimpses  of  Chicago,  San  Francisco,  Los  An- 
geles, Honolulu,  Tokyo,  and  Sydney.  Nagapate  told 
me  afterward  that  he  had  not  known  there  were  so 
many  white  people  in  all  the  world  and  asked  me  if 
the  island  I  came  from  was  much  larger  than  Male- 
kula.  I  showed  in  quick  succession,  steamers,  racing 
automobiles,  airplanes,  elephants,  ostriches,  giraffes. 
The  savages  were  silent;  they  could  not  comprehend 
these  things.  So  I  brought  them  nearer  home,  with 
pictures  taken  on  Vao,  Santo,  and  other  islands  of 
the  New  Hebrides. 

Now  it  was  time  for  the  great  scene.  I  instructed 
Paul  in  turning  the  crank  of  the  projector  and  put 
Stephens  and  Perrole  in  charge  of  the  radium  flares. 
I  myself  took  my  stand  behind  my  camera,  which 
was  trained  on  the  audience.  A  hundred  feet  of 
titles  —  then  Nagapate's  face  appeared  suddenly  on 
the  screen.  A  great  roar  of  "  Nagapate  "  went  up.  At 
that  instant  the  radium  lights  flashed  on,  and  I,  at 


98  CANNIBAL-LAND 

my  camera,  ground  out  the  picture  of  the  cannibals 
at  the  "movies."  True,  about  two  thirds  of  the  au- 
dience, terrified  by  the  flares,  made  precipitately  for 
the  bush.  But  Nagapate  and  the  savages  around 
him  sat  pat  and  registered  fear  and  amazement  for 
my  camera.  In  about  two  minutes  the  flares  burned  i 
out.  Then  we  coaxed  back  to  their  places  the  sav-  ' 
ages  that  had  fled.  I  started  the  reel  all  over  and  ran 
it  to  the  end  amid  an  uproar  that  made  it  impossible  J 
for  me  to  make  myself  heard  when  I  wanted  to  speak 
to  Osa.  Practically  every  savage  pictured  on  the 
screen  was  in  the  audience.  In  two  years  they  had 
not  changed  at  all,  except,  as  Osa  said,  for  additional 
layers  of  dirt.  As  each  man  appeared,  they  called 
out  his  name  and  laughed  and  shouted  with  joy. 
Among  the  figures  that  came  and  went  on  the  screen 
was  that  of  a  man  who  had  been  dead  a  year.  The 
natives  were  awe-struck.  My  magic  could  bring 
back  the  dead! 

Midway  in  the  performance  I  turned  the  projec- 
tion handle  over  to  Mazouyer  and  joined  the  audi- 
ence. Osa  was  crying  with  excitement.  And  there 
was  a  lump  in  my  own  throat.  We  had  looked  for- 
ward a  long  time  to  this. 

When  the  show  was  over,  a  great  shout  went  up. 


HUNTING  FOR  THE  MAGIC 


A  CANNIBAL  AND  A  KODAK 


BIG  NUMBERS  ON  THE  SCREEN       99 

The  savages  gathered  into  groups  and  discussed  the 
performance,  for  all  the  world  as  people  do  "back 
home."  Then  they  crowded  about  us,  demanding 
their  pay  for  looking  at  my  pictures !  As  I  gave  them 
their  sticks  of  tobacco,  each  grunted  out  the  same 
phrase — whether  it  meant  "Fine,"  or  "Thank  you," 
or  just  "  Good-bye,"  I  do  not  know. 

While  we  packed  our  apparatus,  the  natives  cut 
bamboo  and  made  rude  torches.  When  all  were 
ready,  they  lighted  their  torches  at  the  fire  that 
burned  on  the  beach,  and  then  they  set  oflF  in  single 
file  up  the  trail.  We  said  good-bye  to  Perrole  and 
Stephens,  who  were  to  sail  for  Santo  that  night,  and 
prepared  to  go  aboard  Paul's  cutter.  He  had  diffi- 
culty in  getting  his  engine  started,  and  while  he 
worked  with  it,  Osa  and  I  sat  on  the  beach,  watching 
the  torches  of  the  Big  Numbers  people  as  they  filed 
up  hill  and  down  dale  the  long  eight  miles  to  their 
village.  The  night  was  so  dark  that  we  could  not  see 
anything  except  the  string  of  lights  that  wound 
through  the  black  like  a  fiery  serpent.  The  head  dis- 
appeared over  the  top  of  the  hill.  Half  an  hour  later, 
the  tail  wriggled  out  of  sight.  Then  the  engine 
kicked  off. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE 

The  morning  after  our  motion-picture  show  on  the 
beach  at  Malekula  found  us  anchored  off  Vao.  We 
got  our  luggage  ashore  as  quickly  as  possible  and  then 
turned  in  to  make  up  for  lost  sleep.  We  had  slept 
little  during  our  eight  days  in  the  village  of  Naga- 
pate.  We  had  been  in  such  constant  fear  of  treach- 
ery that  the  thud  of  a  falling  coconut  or  the  sound  of 
a  branch  crackling  in  the  jungle  would  set  our  nerves 
atingle  and  keep  us  awake  for  hours.  Now  we  felt 
safe.  We  knew  that  the  four  hundred  savages  of  Vao, 
though  at  heart  as  fierce  and  as  cruel  as  any  of  the 
Malekula  tribes,  lived  in  wholesome  fear  of  the  Brit- 
ish gunboat;  so  we  slept  well  and  long.  ■ 

The  next  morning  we  said  good-bye  to  Paul  Ma- 
zouyer  and  he  chugged  away  to  Santo  in  the  little 
schooner  that  for  two  weeks  had  been  our  home. 
Osa  and  I  were  alone  on  Vao.  We  turned  back  to 
our  bungalow  to  make  things  comfortable,  for  we 
did  not  know  how  many  days  it  would  be  before  Mr. 
King,  who  had  promised  to  call  for  us,  would  appear. 

As  we  walked  slowly  up  from  the  beach,  we  heard 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  101 

a  shout.  We  turned  and  saw  a  savage  running  to- 
ward us.  He  was  a  man  of  about  forty;  yet  he  was 
Httle  larger  than  a  child  and  as  naked  as  when  he  was 
born.  From  his  almost  unintelligible  beche-de-mery 
we  gathered  that  he  wanted  to  be  our  servant.  We 
could  scarcely  believe  our  ears.  Here  was  a  man  who 
wanted  to  work!  We  wondered  how  he  came  to 
have  a  desire  so  contrary  to  Vao  nature,  until  we 
discovered,  after  a  little  further  conversation  in 
beche-de-mery  that  he  was  half-witted !  Since  we  were 
in  need  of  native  help,  we  decided  not  to  let  his  men- 
tal deficiencies  stand  in  his  way  and  we  hired  him  on 
the  spot.  Then  came  the  first  hitch.  We  could  not 
find  out  his  name.  Over  and  over,  we  asked  him, 
"What  name  belong  you?"  but  with  no  result.  He 
shook  his  head  uncomprehendingly.  Finally,  Osa 
pointed  to  the  tracks  he  had  left  in  the  sand.  They 
led  down  to  the  shore  and  vanished  at  the  water's  edge. 
"His  name  is  Friday,"  she  said  triumphantly.  And 
so  we  called  him. 

From  that  moment,  Friday  was  a  member  of  our 
household.  We  gave  him  a  singlet  and  a  lava-lavay  or 
loin-cloth,  of  red  calico,  and  from  somewhere  he  dug 
up  an  ancient  derby  hat.  Some  mornings  he  pre- 
sented himself  dressed  in  nothing  but  the  hat.   He 


102  CANNIBAL-LAND 

was  always  on  hand  bright  and  early,  begging  for 
work,  but,  unfortunately,  there  was  nothing  that  he 
could  do.  We  tried  him  at  washing  clothes,  and  they 
appeared  on  the  line  dirtier  than  they  had  been  be- 
.  fore  he  touched  them.  We  tried  him  at  carrying 
water,  but  he  brought  us  liquid  mud,  with  sticks  and 
leaves  floating  on  the  top.  The  only  thing  he  was  i 
good  for  was  digging  bait  and  paddling  the  canoe 
gently  to  keep  it  from  drifting  while  Osa  fished.        i 

That  was,  indeed,  a  service  of  some  value;  for  Osa 
was  an  indefatigable  fisherwoman.  Every  day,  she 
went  out  and  brought  back  from  ten  to  thirty  one-  I 
and  two-pound  fish,  and  one  day  she  caught  two 
great  fish  that  must  have  weighed  ten  pounds  each. 
It  took  the  combined  efforts  of  Friday  and  herself  to 
land  them. 

I  am  convinced  that,  for  bright  color  and  strange 
markings,  there  are  no  fish  in  the  world  like  those  of 
Vao.  Osa  called  them  Impossible  Fish.  There  were 
seldom  two  of  the  same  color  or  shape  in  her  day's 
catch.  They  were  orange  and  red  and  green  and  sil- 
ver, and  sometimes  varicolored.  But  the  most  no- 
ticeable were  little  blue  fish  about  the  size  of  sardines 
which  went  in  schools  of  thousands  through  the  still 
sea,  coloring  it  with  streaks  of  the  most  brilliant 


I 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  103 

shimmering  blue  you  can  imagine.  In  addition  to 
the  Impossible  Fish,  there  were  many  octopi,  which 
measured  about  three  feet  from  tentacle  to  tentacle, 
and  there  were  shellfish  by  the  thousand.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  island  from  that  on  which  we 
lived,  oysters  grew  on  the  roots  of  mangrove  trees 
at  the  water's  edge,  and  at  low  tide  we  used  to  walk 
along  and  pick  them  off  as  if  they  had  been  fruit. 

We  worked  hard  for  the  first  week  or  so  after  our 
return  to  Vao,  for  we  had  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
plates  and  nearly  two  hundred  kodak  films  to  de- 
velop. Previous  to  this  trip,  I  had  been  forced  to  de- 
velop motion-picture  films,  as  well  as  kodak  films  and 
plates,  as  I  went  along.  Like  most  photographers,  I 
had  depended  upon  a  formalin  solution  to  harden  the 
gelatin  films  and  keep  them  from  melting  in  the  heat. 
Though  such  a  solution  aids  in  the  preservation  of 
the  film,  it  interferes  considerably  with  the  quality 
of  the  picture,  which  often  is  harsh  in  outline  as  a  re- 
sult of  the  thickening  of  the  film,  and  it  is  not  a  guar- 
antee against  mildew  or  against  the  "fogging"  of 
negatives.  Before  starting  for  the  New  Hebrides, 
however,  I  had  worked  out  a  method  of  treating 
films  that  did  not  affect  the  quality  of  the  picture, 
and  yet  made  it  possible  to  develop  films  successfully 


104  CANNIBAL-LAND 

at  a  temperature  much  higher  than  65°.  Still  better, 
it  permitted  me  to  seal  my  film  after  exposure  and 
await  a  favorable  opportunity  for  developing.  Only 
lately  I  have  developed  in  a  New  York  workshop 
films  that  were  exposed  nineteen  months  ago  in  the 
New  Hebrides  and  that  were  carried  about  for  sev- 
eral months  under  the  blaze  of  a  tropical  sun.  They^B 
are  among  the  best  pictures  I  have  ever  taken. 

Any  one  who  has  tried  motion-picture  photog- 
raphy in  the  tropics  will  realize  what  it  means  to  be 
freed  from  the  burden  of  developing  all  films  on  the 
spot.  To  work  from  three  o'clock  until  sunrise,  after  a 
day  of  hard  work  in  enervating  heat,  is  usually  sheer 
agony.  Many  a  time  I  have  gone  through  with  the 
experience  only  to  see  the  entire  result  of  my  work 
ruined  by  an  accident.  I  have  hung  up  a  film  to  dry 
(in  the  humid  atmosphere  of  the  tropics  drying  often 
requires  forty-eight  hours  instead  of  half  as  many 
minutes)  and  found  it  covered  with  tiny  insects  or  bits  f 
of  sand  or  pollen  blown  against  it  by  the  wind  and 
embedded  deep  in  the  gelatin.  I  have  covered  it  with 
mosquito-net  in  an  eflfort  to  avoid  a  repetition  of  the 
tragedy  and  the  mosquito-net  has  shut  off  the  air  and 
caused  the  gelatin  to  melt.  I  have  had  films  mildew  and 
thicken  and  cloud  and  spot,  in  spite  of  every  eflfort 


I 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  105 

to  care  for  them.  On  this  trip,  though  even  so  simple 
an  operation  as  the  changing  of  motion-picture  film 
and  the  seaHng  of  negatives  was  an  arduous  task 
when  it  had  to  be  performed  in  cramped  quarters,  it 
was  a  great  relief  to  be  able  to  seal  up  my  film  and 
forget  it  after  exposure.  The  plates  that  I  used  in 
my  small  camera  had  to  be  promptly  attended  to, 
however,  for  to  have  treated  them  as  I  treated  the 
motion-picture  film  would  have  meant  adding  con- 
siderably to  the  bulk  and  weight  of  the  equipment 
we  were  forced  to  carry  about  with  us. 

We  worked  at  the  developing  several  hours  a  day, 
and  between  times  we  explored  the  island,  learning 
what  we  could  of  native  life.  Arree,  the  boy  who 
acted  as  our  maid-of -all-work,  supplied  me  with  na- 
tive words  until  I  had  a  fairly  respectable  vocabu- 
lary, but,  when  I  tried  to  use  it,  I  made  the  interest- 
ing discovery  that  the  old  men  and  the  young  men 
spoke  different  tongues.  Language  changes  rapidly 
among  savage  tribes.  No  one  troubles  to  get  the 
correct  pronunciation  of  a  word.  The  younger  gen- 
eration adopt  abbreviations  or  new  words  at  will  and 
incorporate  into  their  speech  strange  corruptions  of 
English  or  French  words  learned  from  the  whites. 
Some  of  the  words  I  learned  from  Arree  were  abso- 


106  CANNIBAL-LAND 

lutely  unintelligible  to  many  of  the  older  men.  I 
found,  too,  that  the  language  varied  considerably 
from  village  to  village,  and  though  many  of  the  Vao 
men  were  refugees  from  Malekula,  it  was  very  differ- 
ent from  that  of  any  of  the  tribes  on  the  big  island.  I 
once  estimated  the  number  of  languages  spoken  in 
the  South  Seas  at  four  hundred.  I  am  now  convinced 
that  as  many  as  that  are  used  by  the  black  races 
alone. 

As  we  poked  about  Vao,  we  decided  that  the  is- 
land would  be  a  good  place  in  which  to  maroon  the 
people  who  have  the  romantic  illusion  that  savages 
lead  a  beautiful  life.  We  had  long  ago  lost  that  illu- 
sion, but  even  for  us  Vao  had  some  surprises.  One 
day,  I  made  a  picture  of  an  old,  blind  man,  so  feeble 
that  he  could  scarcely  walk.  He  was  one  of  the  few 
really  old  savages  about,  and  I  gathered  that  he  must 
have  been  a  powerful  chief  in  his  day,  or  otherwise  he 
would  not  have  escaped  the  ordinary  penalty  of  age 
—  being  buried  alive.  But  on  the  day  after  I  had 
taken  his  picture,  when  I  went  to  his  hut  to  speak  to 
him,  I  was  informed  that  "he  stop  along  ground" 
and  I  was  shown  a  small  hut,  in  which  was  a  freshly 
dug  grave.  My  notice  of  the  old  man  had  drawn  him 
into  the  limelight.  The  chiefs  had  held  a  conference 


I 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  107 

and  decided  that  he  was  a  nuisance.  A  grave  was 
dug  for  him,  he  was  put  into  it,  a  flat  stone  was 
placed  over  his  face  so  that  he  could  breathe  (!),  and 
the  hole  was  filled  with  earth.  Now  a  devil-devil 
man  was  squatting  near  the  grave  to  be  on  hand  in 
case  the  old  man  asked  for  something.  There  was 
no  conscious  cruelty  in  the  act,  simply  a  relentless 
logic.  The  old  man  had  outlived  his  usefulness.  He 
was  no  good  to  himself  or  to  the  community.  There- 
fore, he  might  as  well  "stop  along  ground." 

Only  a  few  days  later,  as  we  approached  a  village, 
we  heard,  at  intervals,  the  long-drawn-out  wail  of 
a  woman  in  pain.  In  the  clearing  we  discovered  a 
group  of  men  laughing  and  jeering  at  something  that 
was  lying  on  the  ground.  That  something  was  a 
writhing,  screaming  young  girl.  The  cause  of  her 
agony  was  apparent.  In  the  flesh  back  of  her  knee, 
two  great  holes  had  been  burned.  I  could  have  put 
both  hands  in  either  of  them. 

"One  fellow  man,  him  name  belong  Nowdi,  he 
ketchem  plenty  coconuts,  he  ketchem  plenty  pigs,  he 
ketchem  plenty  Mary,"  said  Arree,  and  he  went  on 
to  explain  that  the  "Mary"  on  the  ground  was  the 
newest  wife  of  Nowdi,  whom  he  pointed  out  to  us 
among  the  amused  spectators.  The  savage  had  paid 


108  CANNIBAL-LAND 

twenty  pigs  for  her  —  a  good  price  for  a  wife  in  the 
New  Hebrides  —  but  he  had  made  a  bad  bargain ; 
for  the  girl  did  not  Hke  him.  Four  times  she  ran 
away  from  him  and  was  caught  and  brought  back. 
The  last  time,  nearly  six  months  had  elapsed  before 
she  was  found,  hiding  in  the  jungle  of  the  mainland. 
The  day  before  we  saw  the  girl,  the  men  of  the  vil- 
lage had  gathered  in  judgment.  A  stone  was  heated 
white-hot.  Then  four  men  held  the  girl  while  a  fifth 
placed  the  stone  in  the  hollow  of  her  knee,  drew  her 
leg  back  until  the  heel  touched  the  thigh,  and  bound 
it  there.  For  an  hour  they  watched  her  anguish  as 
the  stone  slowly  burned  into  her  flesh.  Then  they 
turned  her  loose.  Thenceforth  she  would  always 
have  to  hobble,  like  an  old  woman,  with  the  aid  of  a 
stick.  She  would  never  run  away  again. 

We  turned  aside,  half  sick.  It  was  hard  for  me  to 
keep  my  hands  off  the  brutes  that  stood  laughing 
around  the  girl.  Only  the  knowledge  that  to  touch 
them  would  be  suicide  for  me  and  death  or  worse  for 
Osa  held  me  back.  But  as  we  returned  to  the  bunga- 
low, I  gradually  cooled  down.  I  realized  that  it  was 
not  quite  fair  to  judge  these  savages  —  still  in  the 
stage  of  development  passed  by  our  own  ancestors 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  ago  —  according  to 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  109 

the  standards  of  civilized  society.  And  I  remem- 
bered how  beastly  even  men  of  my  own  kind  some- 
times are  when  they  are  released  from  the  restraints 
of  civilization. 

The  next  morning,  after  our  morning  swim,  Osa 
and  I  sat  on  the  beach  and  watched  the  commut- 
ers set  ofiF  for  Malekula.  In  some  fifty  canoes, 
"manned"  by  women,  the  entire  female  population 
went  to  the  big  island  every  day  to  gather  firewood 
and  fruit  and  vegetables.  For  the  small  island  of 
Vao  could  not  support  its  four  hundred  inhabitants, 
and  the  native  women  had  accordingly  made  their 
gardens  on  the  big  island.  This  morning,  as  usual, 
the  women  were  accompanied  by  an  armed  guard; 
for  although  the  bush  natives  of  Malekula  were  sup- 
posed to  be  friendly,  the  Vao  men  did  not  take  any 
chances  when  it  came  to  a  question  of  losing  their 
women.  Late  in  the  evening  the  canoes  came  back 
again.  The  women  had  worked  all  day,  many  of 
them  with  children  strapped  to  their  backs;  the  men 
had  lounged  on  the  beach,  doing  nothing.  But  it  was 
the  women  who  paddled  the  canoes  home.  There 
was  a  stiff  sea  and  it  took  nearly  three  hours  to  pad- 
dle across  the  mile-wide  channel.  But  the  men  never 
lifted  a  finger  to  help.  When  the  boats  were  safely 


110  CANNIBAL-LAND 

beached,  the  women  shouldered  their  big  bundles  of 
vegetables  and  firewood  and  trudged  wearily  toward 
their  villages,  the  men  bringing  up  the  rear,  with 
nothing  to  carry  except  their  precious  guns.  Among 
the  poor  female  slaves  —  they  were  little  more  — 
we  saw  five  who  hobbled  along  with  the  aid  of  sticks. 
They  were  women  who  had  tried  to  run  away. 

A  few  days  later,  Arree  asked  us  if  we  should  like 
to  attend  a  feast  that  was  being  held  to  celebrate 
the  completion  of  a  devil-devil,  one  of  the  crude, 
carved  logs  that  are  the  only  visible  signs  of  religion 
among  the  savages.  We  did  not  see  why  that  should 
be  an  event  worth  celebrating,  for  there  were  already 
some  hundreds  of  devil-devils  on  the  island,  but  we 
were  glad  to'have  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  one 
of  the  feasts  of  which  Arree  had  so  often  told  us. 

Feasting  was  about  the  only  amusement  of  the 
natives  of  Vao.  A  birth  or  a  death,  the  building  of  a 
house  or  a  canoe,  or  the  installation  of  a  chief  — 
any  event  in  the  least  out  of  the  ordinary  furnished 
an  excuse  for  an  orgy  of  pig  meat  —  usually  "long. " 
The  one  we  attended  was  typical.  First  the  new 
devil-devil  was  carried  into  the  clearing  and,  with 
scant  ceremony,  set  up  among  the  others.  Then 
some  of  the  men  brought  out  about  a  hundred  pigs 


m 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  111 

and  tied  them  to  posts.  Others  piled  hundreds  of 
yams  in  the  center  of  the  clearing,  and  still  others 
threw  chickens,  their  legs  tied  together,  in  a  squawk- 
ing heap.  When  all  was  ready,  the  yams  were  di- 
vided among  the  older  men,  each  of  whom  then  un- 
tied a  pig  from  a  post  and  presented  it  solemnly  to 
his  neighbor,  receiving  in  return  another  pig  of  about 
the  same  size.  The  savages  broke  one  front  and  one 
hind  leg  of  their  pigs  and  threw  the  squealing  little 
beasts  on  the  ground  beside  the  yams.  Then  they  ex- 
changed chickens  and  promptly  broke  the  legs  and 
wings  of  their  fowls.  I  shall  never  forget  the  terrible 
crunching  of  bones  and  the  screaming  of  the  tor- 
tured pigs  and  chickens.  When  the  exchange  was 
completed,  the  men  took  their  pigs  to  the  center  of 
the  clearing,  beat  them  over  the  head  with  sticks  un- 
til they  were  nearly  dead  and  threw  them  down  to 
squeal  and  jerk  their  lives  away. 

When  the  exchange  of  food  was  completed,  the 
men  built  little  fires  all  around  the  clearing  to  cook 
the  feast.  Most  of  them  were  chiefs.  It  is  a  general 
rule  throughout  the  region  that  no  chief  may  eat 
food  prepared  by  an  inferior,  or  cooked  over  a  fire 
built  by  an  inferior.  The  rather  doubtful  honor  of 
being  his  own  cook  is,  indeed,  practically  the  only 


112  CANNIBAL-LAND 

mark  that  distinguishes  a  chief.  As  a  rule  a  chief  has 
no  real  authority.  He  cannot  command  the  least  im- 
portant boy  in  his  village.  Only  his  wives  are  at  his 
beck  and  call  —  and  they  are  forbidden  by  custom  to 
cook  for  him! 

Chieftainship  is  an  empty  honor  on  Vao.  If  the 
biggest  chief  on  the  island  should  start  off  on  a  hunt- 
ing trip  and  forget  his  knife,  he  would  know  better 
than  to  ask  the  poorest  boy  in  the  party  to  go  back 
for  it,  for  he  would  know  in  advance  that  the  answer 
would  be  most  emphatic  Vao  equivalent  for  "go 
chase  yourself!"  Yet  a  chieftaincy  is  sufficiently 
flattering  to  the  vanity  of  the  incumbent  to  be  worth 
many  pigs.  The  pig  is  more  important  in  the  New 
Hebrides  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  A  man's 
wealth  is  reckoned  in  pigs,  and  a  woman's  beauty  is 
rated  according  to  the  number  of  pigs  she  will  bring. 
The  greatest  chiefs  on  Vao  are  those  who  have  killed 
the  most  pigs.  Even  in  that  remote  region  there  is 
political  corruption,  for  some  men  are  not  above 
buying  pigs  in  secret  to  add  to  their  "bag"  and  their 
prestige.  Tethlong,  who,  during  our  stay  on  the  is- 
land, was  the  most  important  chief  on  Vao,  bought 
five  hundred  porkers  to  be  slaughtered  for  the  feast 
that  made  him  chief.  All  the  natives  knew  he  had 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  113 

bought  the  pigs;  but  they  hailed  him  solemnly,  nev- 
ertheless, as  the  great  pig-killer. 

Tethlong  had  as  fine  a  collection  of  pigs'  tusks  as 
I  have  ever  seen.  These  fierce-looking  bits  of  ivory 
did  not  come  oflf  the  wild  pigs,  however,  but  were 
carefully  cultivated  on  the  snouts  of  domesticated 
pigs.  It  is  the  custom  throughout  the  New  Hebrides 
to  take  young  pigs  and  gouge  out  two  upper  teeth, 
so  as  to  make  room  for  the  lower  canine  teeth  to  de- 
velop into  tusks.  The  most  valuable  tusks  are  those 
that  have  grown  up  and  curled  around  so  as  to  form 
two  complete  circles.  These,  however,  are  very  rare. 
The  New  Hebridean  native  considers  himself  well  off 
if  he  has  a  single  circlet  to  wear  as  a  bracelet  or  nose 
ring  and  he  takes  pride  in  a  collection  of  ordinary, 
crescent-shaped  tusks. 

Pigs'  tusks  are  the  New  Hebridean  equivalent  of 
money.  For  even  among  savages,  there  are  rich  and 
poor.  The  man  of  wealth  is  the  one  who  has  the 
largest  number  of  pigs  and  wives  and  coconut  trees 
and  canoes,  acquired  by  judicious  swapping  or  by 
purchase,  with  pigs'  tusks,  rare,  orange-colored  cow- 
ries, and  stones  of  strange  shape  or  coloring  as  cur- 
rency. Most  natives  keep  such  treasures  in  "bokus 
belong  bell "  —  a  Western-made  box  with  a  bell  that 


114  CANNIBAL-LAND 

rings  whenever  the  lid  is  lifted.  But  this  burglar- 
alarm  is  utterly  superfluous,  for  natives  uncontami- 
nated  by  civilization  never  steal. 

Osa  refused  to  watch  the  process  of  preparing  the 
pigs  and  fowls  for  broiling.  It  was  not  a  pretty 
sight.  But  it  was  speedily  over.  While  the  cooking 
was  in  progress,  the  dancing  began.  A  group  of  men 
in  the  center  of  the  clearing  went  through  the  mo- 
tions of  killing  pigs  and  birds  and  men.  Each  tried 
to  get  across  the  footlights  the  idea  that  he  was  a 
great,  strong  man.  And  though  the  pantomime  was 
crude,  it  was  effective.  The  barbaric  swing  of  the 
dancers,  in  time  to  the  strange  rhythm  beaten  out 
on  the  boo-boos  —  the  hollowed  logs  that  serve  as 
drums  —  got  into  my  blood,  and  I  understood  how 
the  dances  sometimes  ended  in  an  almost  drunken 
frenzy. 

When  the  first  group  of  dancers  were  tired,  the 
older  men  gathered  in  the  center  of  the  clearing  and 
palavered  excitedly.  Then  they  retired  to  their  fires 
and  waited.  So  did  we.  But  nothing  happened  save 
another  dance.  This  was  different  in  detail  from  the 
first.  I  never  saw  a  native  do  exactly  the  same  dance 
twice,  though  in  essentials  each  is  monotonously 
similar  to  the  last.  When  the  second  dance  was  over. 


THE  NOBLE  SAVAGE  115 

there  was  more  palavering  and  then  more  dancing 
—  and  so  on  interminably.  Osa  and  I  grew  sleepy 
and  went  back  to  the  bmigalow.  But  the  tom-toms 
somided  until  dawn. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

GOOD-BYE  TO  NAGAPATE 
The  Euphrosyne,  with  the  British  Commissioner 
aboard,  was  about  two  weeks  overdue  and  we  were 
growing  impatient  to  be  ofif.  It  was  not  the  Euphros- 
yne, however,  but  the  queerest  vessel  I  have  ever 
seen,  that  anchored  oflF  Vao,  one  night  at  midnight. 
She  was  about  the  size  of  a  large  schooner  and  nearly 
as  wide  in  the  beam  as  she  was  long.  She  had 
auxiliary  sails,  schooner-rigged.  Her  engine  burned 
wood.  And  her  name  —  as  we  discovered  later  — 
was  Amour.  Queer  as  she  was,  she  was  a  Godsend 
to  us,  marooned  on  Vao.  We  went  out  in  a  canoe 
and  found,  to  our  surprise,  that  the  commander  and 
owner  was  Captain  Moran,  whom  we  had  met  in  the 
Solomons  two  years  before.  We  asked  him  where  he 
was  bound  for.  He  said  that  he  had  no  particular 
destination;  he  was  out  to  get  copra  wherever  he 
could  get  it.  I  proposed  that  he  turn  over  his  ship  to 
us  at  a  daily  rental,  so  that  we  could  continue  our 
search  for  signs  of  cannibalism  among  the  tribes  of 
Malekula.  He  assented  readily.  Osa  and  I  were  de- 
lighted, for  we  knew  that  there  was  n't  a  better  skip- 


GOOD-BYE  TO  NAGAPATE     117 

per  than  Captain  Moran  in  the  South  Seas.  Both  he 
and  his  brother,  who  acted  as  engineer,  were  born  in 
the  islands  and  had  spent  their  Hves  in  wandering 
from  one  group  to  another.  They  knew  the  treach- 
erous channels  as  well  as  any  whites  in  those  waters, 
and  they  knew  the  natives,  too,  from  long  experience 
as  traders. 

The  next  morning,  while  the  crew  of  the  schooner 
were  cutting  wood  for  fuel,  we  packed  our  supplies 
on  board  the  Amour.  When  all  was  ready,  we  pulled 
up  anchor,  set  the  sails,  and  started  the  engine.  Af- 
ter a  few  grunts,  the  propeller  began  to  turn,  and  we 
were  on  our  way. 

Her  ungainly  shape  served  to  make  the  Amour 
seaworthy,  but  it  did  not  conduce  to  speed.  We 
wheezed  along  at  a  rate  of  three  knots  an  hour. 
Though  we  left  Vao  at  dawn,  it  was  nearly  dark 
when  we  again  reached  Tanemarou  Bay,  the  "sea- 
port" of  the  Big  Numbers  territory.  There  was  no 
one  on  the  beach,  but  we  discharged  a  stick  of  dyna- 
mite and  rolled  ourselves  in  our  blankets,  sure  that 
there  would  be  plenty  of  natives  on  hand  to  greet  us 
next  morning. 

We  slept  soundly,  in  spite  of  the  pigs  that  roamed 
the  deck,  and  were  awakened  at  daylight  by  cries. 


118  CANNIBAL-LAND 

About  a  hundred  savages  had  gathered  on  the  beach. 
We  lost  no  time  in  landing,  but  to  our  disappoint- 
ment, Nagapate  had  not  come  down  to  greet  us. 
Only  Velle-Velle,  the  prime  minister,  was  on  hand, 
and  he  was  in  a  difficult  mood.  He  gave  me  to  under- 
stand that  I  had  slighted  him,  on  my  previous  visit, 
in  my  distribution  of  presents.  I  soon  averted  his 
displeasure  with  plenty  of  tobacco  and  the  strangest 
and  most  wonderful  plaything  he  had  ever  had  —  a 
football.  It  was  a  sight  for  sore  eyes  to  see  that  dig- 
nified old  savage,  who  ordinarily  was  as  pompous 
as  any  Western  prime  minister,  kicking  his  football 
about  the  beach. 

At  about  ten  o'clock,  1  took  a  few  boys  and  went 
inland  to  get  some  pictures.  Osa  wanted  to  accom- 
pany me,  but  I  set  my  foot  down  on  it.  I  knew  there 
was  no  danger  for  myself,  but  I  felt  that  Nagapate's 
interest  in  her  made  it  unsafe  for  her  to  venture.  I 
went  to  the  top  of  a  hill  a  few  miles  back,  where  I 
made  some  fine  pictures  of  the  surrounding  country, 
and  was  lucky  enough  to  get  a  group  of  savages  com- 
ing over  the  ridge  of  another  hill  about  half  a  mile 
away.  My  guides  became  panicky  when  they  saw 
the  newcomers,  and  insisted  that  we  return  to  the 
beach  at  once,  but  I  held  firm  until  the  last  savage 


I 


GOOD-BYE  TO  NAGAPATE     119 

on  the  opposite  hill  had  been  lost  to  sight  in  the  jun- 
gle. Then  with  enough  iSlm  to  justify  my  morning's 
climb,  I  returned  to  the  beach. 

On  the  following  morning,  Nagapate  made  his  ap- 
pearance, and  told  me,  through  Atree,  that  he  had 
brought  his  wives  to  see  Osa.  I  sent  the  boat  to  the 
schooner  for  her,  but  when  she  appeared,  Nagapate 
said  that  his  wives  could  not  come  to  the  beach  and 
that  Osa,  accordingly,  must  go  inland  as  far  as  the 
first  river  to  meet  them.  I  did  not  like  the  idea,  but 
decided  that  no  possible  harm  could  come  to  her  if 
the  armed  crew  of  the  Amour  and  Captain  Moran 
and  I  accompanied  her.  It  turned  out  that  my  dis- 
trust of  Nagapate  was  again  unjustified.  We  found 
the  wives  waiting  at  the  designated  spot  with  sugar- 
cane and  yams  and  a  nice,  new  Big  Numbers  dress 
for  Osa.  They  had  not  come  to  the  beach  because 
the  newest  wife  was  not  permitted  to  look  at  the  sea 
for  a  certain  time  after  marriage  —  which  seemed  to 
me  to  carry  the  taboo  on  water  a  bit  too  far. 

Osa  was  pleased  to  add  the  Big  Numbers  dress  to 
her  collection  of  strange  things  from  Melanesia. 
And  indeed  it  was  quite  a  gift.  For  in  spite  of  their 
apparent  simplicity,  the  making  and  dyeing  of  the 
pandanus  garments  is  a  complicated  process.   Since 


120  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  grass  will  not  take  the  dye  if  it  is  the  least  green, 
it  has  to  be  dried  and  washed  and  dried  again.  When 

.  it  is  thoroughly  bleached,  it  is  dyed  deep  purple. 

?  After  Osa  in  turn  had  presented  the  wives  with 
salmon  and  sea-biscuits  (which  I  afterward  saw  Na- 
gapate  and  his  men  devouring)  and  strings  of  bright- 
colored  beads,  Nagapate  agreed  to  get  his  men  to 
dance  for  me,  if  I  would  come  to  his  village.  I  did 
not  relish  the  idea  of  the  long  trip  into  the  hills,  but 
I  wanted  the  picture.  Osa  returned  to  the  schooner, 
and  Captain  Moran  and  I,  with  five  boys,  went  in- 
land. We  made  the  village  in  four  hours.  When  we 
arrived,  I  was  ready  to  drop  with  exhaustion,  and 
lay  down  on  the  ground  for  half  an  hour  to  recover. 
Savages  squatted  about  me  and  watched  me  while  I 
rested,  then  crowded  about  me  while  I  got  my  cam- 
eras ready  for  action.  Nagapate  sent  out  for  the  men 
to  come  to  the  clearing,  and  they  straggled  in,  sullen 
and  cranky.  They  did  not  want  to  dance,  but  Naga- 
pate's  word  was  law.  At  his  command,  a  few  men 
went  to  the  great  boo-boos  and  beat  out  a  weird 
rhythm  that  seemed  to  me  to  express  the  very  es- 
sence of  cannibalism.  At  first  the  savages  danced  in 
a  half-hearted  fashion,  but  gradually  they  warmed 
up.    Soon  they  were  doing  a  barbaric  dance  better 


GOOD-BYE  TO  NAGAPATE     121 

than  any  I  had  ever  seen.  They  marched  quickly 
and  in  perfect  time  around  the  boo-boos.  Then 
they  stopped  suddenly,  with  a  great  shout,  stood 
for  a  moment  marking  time  with  their  feet,  marched 
on  again  and  stopped  again,  and  so  on,  the  march 
becoming  faster  and  faster  and  the  shouting  wilder 
and  more  continuous,  until  at  last  the  dancers  had 
to  stop  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

I  got  a  fine  picture,  well  worth  the  long  trip  up  the 
mountains,  but  it  was  very  late  before  we  got  started 
beachward,  accompanied  by  Nagapate  and  a  num- 
ber of  his  men.  We  went  down  the  slippery  trail  as 
fast  as  we  could  go.  I  should  have  been  afraid,  in  my 
first  days  in  the  islands,  that  the  boys  might  fall 
with  my  cameras  if  we  went  at  such  a  rate,  but  by 
now  I  had  found  that  they  were  as  sure-footed  as 
mountain  sheep.  They  carried  my  heavy  equipment 
as  if  it  had  been  bags  of  feathers  and  handled  it  much 
more  carefully  than  I  should  have  been  able  to. 

In  spite  of  our  haste,  it  grew  dark  before  we 
reached  the  beach.  The  boys  cut  dead  bamboo  for 
torches  and  in  the  uncertain  light  they  gave,  we 
stumbled  along.  When  we  were  within  about  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  from  the  sea,  we  fired  a  volley  to  let  Osa 
know  that  we  were  coming.   To  our  surprise,  when 


122  CANNIBAL-LAND 

we  came  out  on  the  beach,  we  were  greeted  by  Osa 
and  Engineer  Moran  and  the  remainder  of  the  crew 
of  the  Amour,  all  armed  to  the  teeth.  Osa  was  cry- 
ing. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  known  her  to 
sort  to  tears  in  the  face  of  danger.  But  when  she 
learned  that  we  were  all  there  and  safe,  and  that  the 
volley  had  been  a  signal  of  our  approach  and  not  an 
indication  that  we  had  been  attacked,  her  tears 
dried  and  she  scolded  me  roundly  for  having  fright- 
ened her. 

I  went  to  the  boat  and  got  a  crate  of  biscuits  and  a 
small  bag  of  rice  and  took  them  back  to  Nagapate 
for  a  feast  for  him  and  his  men.  Then  I  said  good- 
bye. I  believe  that  the  old  cannibal  was  really  sorry 
to  see  us  go  —  and  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  pres- 
ents we  had  given  him.  Some  day  I  am  going  back 
to  see  him  once  more. 


)sa    j 
ew    j 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE 

At  daylight  we  pulled  anchor  and  set  the  sails  and 
started  the  engine.  With  the  wind  to  help  us,  we 
made  go<?d  progress.  In  three  hours  we  had  reached 
our  next  anchorage,  a  small  bay  said  to  be  the  last 
frequented  by  the  Big  Numbers  people.  We  were  in 
the  territory  of  the  largest  tribe  on  the  west  side  of 
Malekula.  Moran  told  me  that  no  white  man  had 
ever  penetrated  the  bush  and  that  the  people  were 
very  shy  and  wild.  We  landed,  but  saw  no  signs  of 
savages.  We  thought  we  had  the  beach  to  ourselves, 
and  I  set  about  making  pictures  of  a  beautiful  little 
river,  all  overhung  with  ferns  and  palms,  that  ran 
into  the  sea  at  one  side  of  the  bay.  As  I  worked,  one 
of  the  boys  ran  up  to  me  and  told  me  in  very  fright- 
ened heche-de-mer  that  he  had  seen  "plenty  big  fel- 
low man  along  bush,"  and  we  beat  a  hasty  retreat 
from  the  river,  with  its  beautiful  vegetation,  well 
fitted  for  concealing  savages. 

I  was  very  anxious  to  secure  some  photographs  of 
the  savages,  and  all  the  more  so  because  they  were 
said  to  be  so  difficult  of  approach,  so  I  walked  along 


I 


124  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  beach  until  I  came  to  a  trail  leading  into  the  in 
terior.  It  was  easy  to  locate  the  trail,  for  it  was  like 
a  tunnel  leading  into  the  dark  jungle.  At  its  mouth, 
I  set  up  my  camera,  attached  a  telephoto  lens,  bun- 
dled up  a  handful  of  tobacco  in  a  piece  of  calico, 
placed  my  bait  at  the  entrance  of  the  trail,  and 
waited.  A  half -hour  passed,  but  nothing  happened. 
Then,  quick  as  a  wink,  a  savage  darted  out,  seized 
the  bundle  and  disappeared  before  I  had  time  to 
take  hold  of  the  crank  of  my  camera.  My  trap  had 
worked  too  well.  Now  I  was  determined  to  get  re- 
sults, so  I  had  our  armed  crew  withdraw  to  the  edge 
of  the  beach  and  asked  Captain  Moran  and  Osa  to 
set  their  guns  against  a  rock  so  that  the  savages 
could  see  that  we  were  not  armed.  I  knew  that,  in 
case  of  emergency,  we  could  use  the  pistols  in  our 
pockets.  Then  I  sat  down  on  my  camera  case  and 
waited.  At  noon  we  sent  one  of  the  boys  back  to  the 
boat  for  some  tinned  lunch.  We  ate  with  our  eyes  on 
the  trail.  It  was  two  o'clock  before  four  savages, 
with  guns  gripped  tight  in  their  hands,  came  cau- 
tiously out  of  the  jungle,  ready  to  run  at  the  first 
alarm.  I  advanced  slowly,  so  as  not  to  frighten  them, 
holding  out  a  handful  of  tobacco  and  clay  pipes. 
They  timidly  took  my  presents,  and  I  tried  to  make 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  125 

them  understand,  by  friendly  gestures  and  soft 
words,  which  they  did  not  comprehend,  that  we 
could  not  harm  them.  To  make  a  long  story  short,  I 
worked  all  afternoon  to  gain  their  confidence  —  and 
it  was  work  wasted,  for  I  could  get  no  action  from 
them.  They  simply  stood  like  hitching-posts  and  let 
me  take  pictures  all  around  them.  At  sundown  we 
went  back  to  the  ship,  with  nothing  to  show  for  our 
day's  effort. 

Next  morning,  we  set  sail  betimes.  It  did  not  take 
us  long  to  reach  Lambumba  Bay,  on  the  narrow  isth- 
mus that  connects  northern  and  southern  Malekula. 
I  had  been  anxious  to  visit  this  region,  for  I  had 
heard  conflicting  tales  concerning  it.  Some  said  that 
it  was  inhabited  by  nomad  tribes;  others  said  that 
the  nomads  were  a  myth  —  that  the  region  was  un- 
inhabited. I  wanted  to  see  for  myself.  So  I  in- 
structed Captain  Moran  to  find  a  good  anchorage, 
where  the  ship  would  be  sheltered  in  case  a  westerly 
wind  should  spring  up.  I  wanted  him  to  feel  safe  in 
leaving  the  Amour  in  charge  of  a  couple  of  blacks, 
for  I  needed  him  and  his  brother  and  the  majority  of 
the  crew  to  accompany  us  into  the  interior.  We 
found  a  small  cove  at  the  mouth  of  a  stream  and  with 
the  kedge  anchor  we  drew  the  Amour  in  until  the 


126  CANNIBAL-LAND 

branches  of  the  trees  hung  over  the  decks.  At  high 
tide  we  pulled  the  bow  of  the  schooner  up  into  ttie 
sand.  At  low  tide  she  was  almost  high  and  dry,  and 
she  was  safe  from  any  ordinary  blow.  Since  this  was 
not  the  hurricane  season,  no  great  storm  was  to  be 
expected.  In  the  evening,  Osa  made  up  the  lunch- 
bags  for  the  following  day,  and  early  next  morning, 
we  struck  inland  along  a  well-beaten  trail.  We  fol 
lowed  this  trail  all  day,  but  we  saw  no  signs  of  natives 
Next  day  we  took  a  second  trail,  which  crossed  the 
first.  Again  we  met  no  one.  But  we  found  baskets 
hanging  from  a  banian  and  the  embers  of  a  fire,  still 
alive  under  a  blanket  of  ashes. 

Though  we  were  accomplishing  nothing,  we  were 
having  a  very  enjoyable  time,  for  this  was  the  most 
beautiful  part  of  Malekula  we  had  seen.  The  trails 
were  well-beaten  and  for  the  most  part  followed 
small  streams  that  cut  an  opening  in  the  dense  jun- 
gle to  let  the  breeze  through.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  we 
were  surrounded  by  gay  tropical  birds,  and  in  the 
trees  hung  lovely  orchids.  Osa  kept  the  boys  busy 
climbing  after  the  flowers.  They  were  plainly  amazed 
at  the  whim  of  this  white  "Mary,"  who  filled  gaso- 
line tins  with  useless  flowers,  but  they  obeyed  her 
willingly  enough,  and  she,  with  arms  full  of  the  deli- 


:| 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  127 

cate  blossoms,  declared  that  she  was  willing  to  spend 
a  month  looking  for  the  savages. 

We  discovered  them,  however,  sooner  than  that. 
On  the  third  morning  we  took  a  new  trail.  We  were 
walking  along  very  slowly.  I  was  in  the  lead.  I 
turned  a  sharp  corner  around  a  big  banian  —  and  all 
but  collided  with  a  savage.  The  savage  was  as  as- 
tonished as  I,  but  he  got  his  wits  back  more  quickly 
than  I  did  mine,  and  flitted  off  into  the  jungle  as 
quietly  as  a  butterfly.  When  the  others  came,  I 
could  scarcely  make  them  believe  that  I  had  seen 
him;  for  he  left  no  trail  in  the  underbrush,  and  they 
had  not  heard  a  sound.  In  the  hope  of  surprising 
other  natives,  we  agreed  to  stay  close  together  and 
to  make  as  little  noise  as  possible.  In  about  half  an 
hour  four  natives  appeared  on  the  brow  of  a  low  hill, 
directly  in  front  of  us.  They,  too,  turned  at  the  sight 
of  us  and  ran  off. 

We  followed  along  the  trail  by  which  they  had  dis- 
appeared. In  about  fifteen  minutes  we  stopped  to 
rest  near  a  great  banian.  Now  the  banian,  which  is 
characteristic  of  this  section  of  Malekula,  begins  as 
a  parasite  seedling  that  takes  root  in  a  palm  or  some 
other  tree.  This  seedling  grows  and  sends  out 
branches,  which  drop  ropelike  tendrils  to  the  ground. 


128  CANNIBAL-LAND 

The  tendrils  take  root  and  gradually  thicken  into 
trunks.  The  new  trunks  send  out  other  branches, 
which  in  turn  drop  their  tendrils,  and  so  on,  indefi- 
nitely. The  banian  near  which  we  had  stopped  was 
some  twenty  feet  in  diameter.  Its  many  trunks  grew 
close  together  and  it  was  covered  with  a  crown  of 
great  heart-shaped  leaves.  Since  conditions  seemed 
favorable  for  a  picture,  I  got  a  camera  ready  and 
turned  to  the  tree  to  study  the  lights  and  shadows 
before  I  adjusted  the  shutters.  As  I  grew  accuis- 
tomed  to  the  light,  I  saw  dimly,  peering  from  behin< 
the  tendrils,  four  intent  black  faces.  We  had  caught 
up  with  the  men  we  had  surprised  on  the  trail. 

I  spent  an  hour  in  trying  to  coax  them  into  th< 
open.   I  held  out  toward  them  the  things  most  cov- 
eted by  the  natives  of  the  New  Hebrides  —  tobacco, 
salt,  a  knife,  a  piece  of  red  calico.  But  they  did  nol 
stir.  I  made  an  attractive  heap  of  presents  on  th< 
ground  and  we  all  stood  back,  hoping  that  the  shy 
savages  would  pick  up  courage  to  come  out  and  ex-j 
amine  them.   But  they  refused  to  be  tempted.   At] 
last  I  lost  patience  and  ordered  the  boys  to  surround] 
the  banian.  When  I  was  sure  that  we  had  the  natives 
cornered,  I  went  under  the  tree  and  hunted  around 
among  its  many  trunks  for  my  captives.  There  was 


ONE  OF  THE  MONKEY  MEN 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  129 

not  a  sign  of  them.  But  in  the  center  of  the  banian 
was  an  opening  in  which  hung  long  ladders  fashioned 
from  the  tendrils.  The  savages  had  escaped  over  the 
tops  of  the  trees.  We  did  not  get  another  glimpse  of 
them  that  day,  but  when  we  returned  to  the  Amour, 
we  saw  footprints  in  the  sand  of  the  beach.  And  the 
two  boys  we  had  left  in  charge  said  that  a  number  of 
savages  had  inspected  the  vessel  from  a  distance, 
disappearing  into  the  jungle  just  before  our  arrival. 

I  was  convinced  by  this  time  that  we  had  really 
discovered  the  nomads,  but  I  began  to  despair  of 
ever  getting  a  close-up  of  them.  Early  next  morn- 
ing, however,  as  we  were  eating  breakfast,  a  native 
who  might  have  been  twin  brother  to  those  of  the 
banian  marched  boldly  down  the  beach  and  up  to 
the  side  of  the  ship.  In  bad  heche-de-mer  he  asked  us 
who  we  were  and  where  we  came  from  and  what  we 
wanted.  We  learned  that  he  had  been  "black- 
birded  "  off  to  Queensland  long  before  and  had  made 
his  way  back  home  after  a  year's  absence.  He  knew 
all  about  the  white  men  and  their  ways,  he  told  us, 
and  proved  it  by  asking  for  tobacco. 

I  gladly  got  out  some  tobacco  and  gave  it  to  him. 
Then  he  informed  us  that  he  had  no  pipe  and  I  made 
him  happy  with  a  clay  pipe  and  a  box  of  matches. 


130  CANNIBAL-LAND 

I  invited  him  to  come  on  board,  but  lie  refused; 
one  "blackbirding"  experience  had  been  enough  for 
him.  He  squatted  on  the  sand,  within  talking  dis- 
tance, and  told  us  what  a  great  man  he  was.  He  was 
the  only  one  of  his  tribe  who  knew  "  talk  belong  white 
man."  He  was  a  famous  fighter.  The  enemies  of  his 
people  ran  when  they  saw  him.  He  had  killed  many 
men  and  many  pigs.  He  recited  his  virtues  over  and 
over,  utterly  ignoring  my  questions  about  his  people. 
But  finally  I  succeeded  in  extracting  from  him  an 
agreement  to  guide  us  to  the  headquarters  of  his 
tribe. 

When  we  stood  on  the  shore,  ready  to  go,  Nella  — 
for  that  was  the  name  of  our  visitor  —  looked  Osa 
over  from  head  to  foot.  She  wore  her  usual  jungle 
costume  of  khaki  breeches  and  high  boots.  When  he 
had  completed  his  inspection,  he  turned  to  me  and 
said  wisely,  "Me  savvy.  He  Mary  belong  you." 
Then,  adding  in  a  business-like  tone,  "Me  think 
more  better  you  bringem  altogether  tobacco,"  he 
turned  and  led  the  way  into  the  jungle. 

He  took  us  along  one  of  the  trails  that  we  had  fol- 
lowed in  vain  during  the  preceding  days.  But  pres- 
ently he  turned  ofiF  into  another  trail  that  we  had  not 
noticed.  The  entrance  was  masked  with  cane-grass. 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  131 

After  about  ten  feet,  however,  the  path  was  clean 
and  well-beaten.  When  we  had  passed  through  the 
cane,  Nella  returned  and  carefully  straightened  out 
the  stalks  that  we  had  trampled  down. 

When  we  had  traversed  a  mile  or  so  of  trail,  Nella 
called  a  halt  and  disappeared  into  the  depths  of  a 
banian.  Soon  he  returned,  followed  by  three  young 
savages  and  an  old  man,  who  was  nearer  to  a 
monkey  than  any  human  being  I  have  ever  seen 
before  or  since  —  bright  eyes  peering  out  from  a 
shock  of  woolly  hair;  an  enormous  mouth  disclos- 
ing teeth  as  white  and  perfect  as  those  of  a  dental 
advertisement;  skin  creased  with  deep  wrinkles;  an 
alert,  nervous,  monkey -like  expression;  quick,  siye, 
monkey-like  movements.  He  approached  us  care- 
fully, ready  to  turn  and  run  at  the  slightest  alarm. 
I  endeavored  to  shake  hands  with  him,  but  he  jerked 
his  hand  away.  The  friendly  greeting  had  no  mean- 
ing for  him.  My  presents,  however,  talked  to  him. 
Reassured  by  them  and  the  voluble  Nella,  who  was 
greatly  enjoying  his  position  as  master  of  ceremo- 
nies, the  savages  squatted  near  us. 

I  began  digging  after  information,  but  informa- 
tion was  hard  to  get.  Nella  preferred  asking  ques- 
tions to  answering  them.  All  that  I  could  learn  from 


132  CANNIBAL-LAND 

him  was  that  there  were  many  savages  in  the  vicin 
ity  and  that  we  would  see  them  all  in  due  time. 

The  conversation  became  one-sided.  The  five 
savages  sat  and  discussed  us  in  their  own  language 
of  growls  and  ape-like  chattering.  They  tried  to  ex- 
amine the  rifles  carried  by  our  boys,  but  the  boys 
were  afraid  to  let  their  guns  out  of  their  hands.  Osa, 
more  confident,  explained  to  the  savages  the  work- 
ing of  her  repeater.  Then  they  focused  their  atten 
lion  on  her.  They  felt  her  boots  and  grunted  admir- 
ingly. They  fingered  her  blond  hair  and  carefully 
touched  her  skin,  giving  strange  little  whistles  o 
awe.  Osa  was  used  to  such  attentions  from  savages 
and  took  them  as  a  matter  of  course. 

In  spite  of  their  grotesque  appearance,  there  wasdl 
little  that  was  terrifying  about  our  new  acquain- 
tances.  They  seemed  not  at  all  warlike.  Only  two  of 
the  five  carried  weapons,  the  one  a  bow  and  arrow, 
the  other  a  club.  I  was  interested  to  observe  that  the 
old  man,  who  apparently  was  a  chief,  wore  the  Big 
Numbers  costume  —  a  great  clout  of  pandanus  fiber 
—  while  the  others  were  still  more  lightly  clothed 
according  to  the  style  in  vogue  among  the  Sm 
Numbers.  I  tried  to  find  out  the  reason  for  the  vari- 
ation. But  Nella  was  not  interested  in  my  questions. 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  133 

Finally,  I  realized  that  there  was  no  use  in  trying  to 
get  information  in  a  hurry.  Time  means  nothing  to 
savages.  We  examined  the  banian  from  which  our 
visitors  had  come.  Like  the  tree  we  had  seen  on  the 
previous  day,  it  had  a  hole  in  the  center,  in  which 
hung  a  ladder  for  hasty  exits.  Empty  baskets,  hung 
from  the  branches,  showed  that  the  place  was  much 
frequented. 

After  a  while  about  twenty  natives  came  along 
the  trail.  They  joined  the  five  natives  already  with 
us,  and  the  examination  of  us  and  our  belongings  be- 
gan all  over.  Osa  went  among  the  newcomers  with 
her  kodak,  taking  snapshots,  and  I  set  up  my  mov- 
ing-picture camera  on  a  tripod,  selected  a  place 
where  the  light  was  good,  and  tried  to  get  the  sav- 
ages in  front  of  my  lens.  They  would  not  move;  so  I 
pointed  my  camera  at  them  and  began  to  turn  the 
crank.  Like  lightning,  they  sprang  to  their  feet  and 
ran  to  the  banian.  They  scampered  up  the  tendrils 
like  monkeys,  and  by  the  time  I  could  follow  them 
with  the  camera,  I  could  see  only  their  bright  eyes 
here  and  there  peering  from  the  crevices. 

Through  Nella  we  coaxed  them  back,  and  down 
they  came,  as  quickly  as  they  had  gone  up,  while  I 
ground  out  one  of  the  best  pictures  I  ever  got.  Osa 


134  CANNIBAL-LAND  I 

at  once  dubbed  them  the  "monkey  people."  And  in- 
deed they  were  nearer  monkeys  than  men.  They  had 
enormous  flat  feet,  with  the  great  toe  separated  from 
the  other  toes  and  turned  in.  They  could  grasp  a 
branch  with  their  feet  as  easily  as  I  could  with  my 
hands.  For  speed  and  sureness  and  grace  in  climbing, 
they  outdid  any  other  men  I  had  ever  seen. 

When  luncheon-time  came,  we  spread  out  our 
meal  of  cold  broiled  wood-pigeon,  tinned  asparagus, 
and  sea-biscuit  and  began  to  eat.  After  watching  us 
for  a  few  moments,  two  or  three  savages  went  and 
fetched  some  small  almond-like  nuts,  which  they 
shared  with  their  companions.  They  seemed  more 
like  monkeys  than  ever  as  they  squatted  there,  bus- 
ily cracking  the  nuts  with  stones  and  picking  out  the 
meats  with  their  skinny  fingers. 

By  dint  of  many  presents,  I  won  the  confidence  of 
the  chief  and,  before  the  afternoon  was  over,  I  was 
calling  him  by  his  first  and  only  name,  which  was,  as 
near  as  I  can  spell  it  phonetically,  Wo-bang-an-ar. 
He  was  a  strange  crony.  He  was  covered  with  layer 
after  layer  of  dirt.  No  one  who  has  not  been  among 
savage  tribes  can  image  a  human  being  so  filthy.  His 
hair  had  never  been  combed  or  cut;  it  was  matted 
with  dirt  and  grease.  His  eyes  were  protruding  and 


WO-BANG-AN-AR 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  135 

bloodshot  and  they  were  never  still.  His  glance 
darted  from  one  to  another  of  us  and  back  again. 
But,  like  Nagapate,  he  proved  to  be  a  real  chief,  and 
his  people  jumped  whenever  he  gave  a  command. 
He  ordered  them  to  do  whatever  I  asked,  and  I  made 
pictures  all  the  afternoon. 

That  night  we  slept  in  the  banian,  and  next  day 
Nella  led  us  through  the  jungle  to  a  clearing  some 
five  miles  distant.  There  we  found  about  a  hundred 
men,  women,  and  children.  All  of  them,  save  Wo- 
banganar,  who  had  his  food  supplied  to  him  by  his 
subjects,  looked  thin  and  drawn.  Some  of  the  men 
wore  the  Big  Numbers  costume,  some  that  of  the 
Small  Numbers.  The  women  wore  the  usual  Small 
Numbers  dress  of  a  few  leaves.  A  few  men  carried 
old  rifles,  but  they  had  only  about  half  a  dozen  car- 
tridges among  them;  a  few  others  had  bows  and  ar- 
rows or  clubs,  but  the  majority  were  unarmed.  This 
seemed  strange,  in  the  light  of  our  experience  among 
the  tribes  of  northern  Malekula,  but  even  stranger 
was  the  fact  that  these  people  had  no  houses  or 
huts  —  no  dwellings  of  any  kind.  They  lived  in  the 
banians.  Sometimes  they  put  a  few  leaves  over  the 
protruding  roots  as  a  shelter  from  rain.  Occasion- 
ally, they  built  against  the  great  central  trunk  of  the 


136  CANNIBAL-LAND 

tree  a  rough  lean-to  of  sticks  and  leaves.   Beyond 
that  they  made  no  attempt  at  constructing  houses. 

During  the  three  days  we  spent  among  them,  I 
picked  up  fragments  of  their  history,  which  runs 
somewhat  as  follows: 

Years  ago,  before  the  white  men  came  to  Male«^| 
kula,  there  were  many  more  people  on  the  island 
than  there  are  to-day.  In  the  north  and  in  the  south 
there  were  great  tribes,  who  were  fierce  and  warlike. 
They  fell  upon  the  people  who  dwelt  in  the  isthmus, 
and  destroyed  their  villages.  Again  and  again  this 
happened.  The  tribes  that  lived  in  the  isthmus 
grew  smaller  and  smaller.  Their  men  were  killed  and 
their  women  were  carried  off.  Finally  the  few  that 
were  left  no  longer  dared  to  build  villages;  for  a  vil- 
lage served  merely  to  advertise  their  whereabouts  to 
their  enemies.  They  became  nomads,  living  in  trees. 
They  even  ceased  the  cultivation  of  gardens  and  de- 
pended for  their  food  on  wild  fruits  and  nuts,  the 
roots  of  trees,  and  an  occasional  bit  of  fish.  Their 
number  was  augmented  from  time  to  time  by  refu- 
gees from  the  Big  Numbers  tribes  on  the  north  and 
from  the  Small  Numbers  on  the  south  —  a  fact  that 
explained  the  variation  in  dress  we  had  noticed. 
They  were  unarmed,  because  their  best  means  of  de- 


THE  MONKEY  PEOPLE  137 

fense  was  flight.  They  could  not  stand  against  their 
wariike  neighbors,  but  they  could  elude  them  by 
climbing  trees  and  losing  themselves  in  the  dark,  im- 
penetrable jungles. 


1 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES 

After  three  days  among  the  nomads,  we  decided 
that  there  was  no  cannibaHsm  among  a  people  so 
mild  and  spiritless,  and  so  we  packed  our  belongings 
and  set  off  for  the  Amour.  We  thought  we  had  half 
a  day's  journey  ahead  of  us,  but  to  our  surprise  we 
reached  the  ship  in  less  than  two  hours.  Nella,  to  b< 
on  the  safe  side,  had  led  us  to  the  headquarters  of 
the  tribe  by  a  circuitous  route. 

It  was  high  tide  when  we  reached  the  beach;  so  we 
took  the  opportunity  of  getting  the  Amour  off  th( 
sand.  A  good  breeze  took  us  rapidly  down  the  coast,] 
At  nightfall  we  started  the  engine  and  by  midnightj 
we  had  anchored  in  Southwest  Bay. 

The  next  morning,  at  daybreak,  we  were  sur- 
rounded by  natives  in  canoes,  with  fruit  and  yams^ 
and  fish  for  sale.  Since  the  fish  were  old  and  smelly,! 
we  decided  to  catch  some  fresh  ones  by  the  dynamite' 
method  in  use  throughout  the  South  Seas  wherever 
there  are  white  men  to  employ  their  "magic"!  We 
lowered  the  two  whaleboats.  I  set  my  camera  in  one 
and  lashed  the  other  alongside  to  steady  my  boat 


SOUTHWEST  BAY 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    139 

which  bobbed  about  a  good  bit  as  it  was,  but  not 
enough  to  spoil  the  picture.  I  next  set  the  natives  to 
hunting  for  a  school  of  fish.  In  a  few  moments  they 
signaled  that  they  had  found  one.  We  approached 
slowly  and  quietly  and  threw  the  dynamite.  It  ex- 
ploded with  a  roar  and  sent  a  spout  of  water  several 
feet  into  the  air.  After  the  water  had  quieted,  the 
fish  began  to  appear.  Soon  some  three  hundred  mul- 
lets, killed  from  the  concussion,  were  floating  on  the 
surface  and  the  natives  jumped  overboard  and  be- 
gan to  gather  the  fish  into  their  canoes.  Suddenly 
one  of  the  blacks  yelled  in  terror.  He  scrambled  into 
his  canoe  and  his  companions  did  likewise.  I  saw  the 
dark  edge  of  a  shark's  fin  coining  through  the  water. 
He  was  an  enormous  shark  and  in  his  wake  came  a 
dozen  others.  They  made  the  water  boil  as  they 
gobbled  down  our  catch.  Captain  Moran  seized  his 
gun  and  put  a  bullet  through  the  nose  of  one  of  the 
largest  of  them.  The  shark  leaped  ten  feet  out  of  the 
water,  and  in  huge  jumps  made  for  the  open  sea, 
lashing  the  water  into  foam  with  his  tail  every  time 
he  touched  the  surface.  I  got  some  fine  pictures. 

Before  the  sun  was  up,  we  were  well  on  our  way, 
with  an  escort  of  a  dozen  canoes.  The  river  was 
broad  and  beautiful.  On  one  side  was  a  sandy  beach. 


140  CANNIBAL-LAND 

On  the  other  was  jungle,  clear  to  the  water's  edge. 
After  we  had  paddled  for  about  two  miles,  we  came 
unexpectedly  into  a  lagoon  about  three  miles  long 
and  two  wide,  and  dotted  with  tiny,  jungled  islands. 
As  we  were  making  pictures  of  the  lovely  scene,  sev- 
eral natives  came  out  in  canoes  and  invited  us  to 
land.  They  were  the  first  of  the  long-headed  people 
that  we  had  seen.  Their  heads  were  about  half  as 
long  again  as  they  should  have  been  and  sloped  off 
to  a  rounded  point.  We  landed  and  visited  several 
villages,  each  consisting  of  no  more  than  three  or 
four  tumble-down  huts.  There  were  a  few  wretched, 
naked  women,  a  half-dozen  skinny  children,  and  sev- 
eral half-starved  pigs  about.  Some  of  the  women 
had  strapped  to  their  backs  babies  who  wore  the 
strange  baskets  that  mould  their  heads  into  the 
fashionable  shape.  One  of  these  baskets  is  put  on 
the  head  of  each  child  when  it  is  about  three  days 
old.  First  a  cloth  woven  from  human  hair  is  fitted 
over  the  head.  This  is  soaked  with  coconut  oil  to 
soften  the  skull.  Then,  after  a  few  days,  the  basket  is 
put  on,  and  the  soft  skull  immediately  takes  on  the 
elongated  shape  desired.  The  basket  is  woven  of  co- 
conut fiber  in  such  a  manner  that  the  strands  can  be 
tightened  day  after  day,  until  the  bones  are  too  hard 


i 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    141 

to  be  further  compressed.  When  the  child  is  a  year 
old,  the  basket  is  taken  ofiF. 

In  time  gone  by,  the  lagoon  tribes,  like  the  "mon- 
key people,"  had  suffered  much  from  wars.  The  few 
survivors  had  lost  interest  in  life.  They  no  longer  re- 
paired their  houses.  Their  devil-devils  were  falling 
into  decay.  The  clearings,  instead  of  being  beaten 
hard,  as  is  usually  the  case,  were  overgrown  with 
grass;  for  dances  and  ceremonies  were  rare  among 
these  sadly  disheartened  folk. 

Inside  the  houses  were  gruesome  ornaments.  Hu- 
man heads,  dried  and  smoked,  hung  from  the  rafters 
or  leered  from  the  ends  of  the  poles  on  which  they 
were  impaled.  In  some  houses  there  were  mummified 
bodies,  with  pigs'  tusks  in  the  place  of  feet.  Some- 
how, in  the  general  atmosphere  of  decay,  these 
things  seemed  pitiful  rather  than  terrifying. 

When  we  returned  to  the  beach,  a  little  after  dark, 
the  boys  told  us  that  scores  of  natives,  well  armed 
and  painted  in  war-colors,  had  spent  a  day  on  the 
beach  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  bay.  As  soon  as  it 
was  daylight,  we  embarked  in  the  whaleboat  to  look 
for  them.  For  about  five  miles,  we  ran  along  the 
coast  without  seeing  a  trace  of  a  human  being.  The 
jungle  came  down  to  the  water's  edge  and  dangled  its 


142  CANNIBAL-LAND 

vines  in  the  water.  But  at  last  we  came  to  a  long, 
sandy  beach  well  packed  down  by  bare  feet.  A  num- 
ber of  baskets  hung  from  the  trees  at  the  edge  of  the 
jungle.  We  headed  the  boat  for  the  shore,  but  just 
before  she  ran  her  nose  into  the  sand,  some  twenty 
savages  emerged  without  warning  from  the  bush. 
One  glance,  and  our  boys  frantically  put  out  to  sea 
again.  We  were  thankful  enough  for  their  presence 
of  mind,  for  the  natives  were  a  terrifying  sight. 
Their  faces  and  heads  were  striped  with  white  lime; 
their  black  bodies  were  dotted  with  spots  of  red, 
yellow,  blue,  and  white,  and  their  bushy  hair  bris- 
tled with  feathers.  They  all  carried  guns.  How 
many  of  them  had  bullets  was  another  question 
—  but  we  did  not  care  to  experiment  to  find  the 
answer. 

When  we  were  about  fifty  feet  from  shore,  I  called 
a  halt  and  tried  to  get  into  communication  with  the 
natives.  I  had  small  success.  They  kept  saying 
something  over  and  over,  but  what  it  was,  I  could 
not  understand.  The  tide  carried  us  up  the  coast  and 
the  men  followed  at  the  water's  edge.  Finally,  real- 
izing that  we  did  not  trust  them,  they  went  back  to 
the  jungle  and  leaned  their  guns  against  a  tree. 
Then  they  came  down  to  the  water-line  again,  and 


WOMAN  AND  CHILD  OF  THE  LONG-HEADS,  TOMMAN 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    143 

we  rowed  inshore  until  the  bow  of  our  boat  was  an- 
chored in  the  sand. 

The  savages  waded  out  to  us.  Our  boys  held  their 
guns  ready  for  action;  for  the  visitors  were  certainly 
a  nasty-looking  lot.  They  were  as  naked  as  when 
they  were  born,  and  they  had  great,  slobbery  mouths 
that  seemed  to  bespeak  many  a  cannibal  feast.  They 
begged  for  tobacco  and  I  gave  each  of  them  a  stick 
and  a  clay  pipe.  Then  one  of  them,  who  spoke  a  lit- 
tle heche-de-mer,  told  us  that  a  big  feast  was  tak- 
ing place  at  a  village  about  three  miles  inland.  He 
and  his  companions  were  waiting  for  the  boo-boos 
to  announce  that  it  was  time  for  them  to  put  in  an 
appearance. 

I  decided,  and  Captain  Moran  and  his  brother 
agreed  with  me,  that  there  would  be  no  danger  in  at- 
tending the  ceremony.  From  what  I  could  extract 
from  the  natives,  I  gathered  that  there  would  not  be 
more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  persons  present.  Our 
black  boys  seemed  willing  to  make  the  trip  —  a  good 
sign,  for  they  were  quick  to  scent  danger  and  deter- 
mined in  avoiding  it,  so  we  landed. 

Experience  had  taught  me  that  the  possession  of 
a  rifle  does  not  necessarily  make  a  native  dangerous, 
and,  sure  enough,  when  I  examined  the  guns  leaning 


144  CANNIBAL-LAND 

against  the  tree,  I  found  that  only  four  of  the  guns 
had  cartridges.  The  rest  were  all  too  old  and  rusty 
to  shoot. 

Twenty  savages  led  us  inland  over  a  good  trail. 
Before  we  had  walked  half  an  hour,  we  could  hear 
the  boom  of  the  boo-boos.  I  have  never  been  able  to 
get  used  to  that  sound.  Often  as  I  have  heard  it,  it 
sends  a  chill  down  my  spine.  After  an  hour,  it  began 
to  get  on  my  nerves.  By  that  time  we  had  reached 
the  foot  of  a  steep  hill,  and  our  escort  told  us  that 
they  could  go  no  farther  until  they  were  summoned. 
We  went  on  alone,  the  sound  of  the  boo-boos  grow- 
ing louder  and  more  terrifying  with  each  step.  Osa 
began  to  wonder  about  the  advisability  of  bursting 
on  the  natives  unannounced.  She  hinted  vaguely 
that  it  might  be  wise  to  return  to  the  boat.  But  we 
kept  on. 

It  was  a  hard  climb.  We  had  to  stop  several  times 
to  rest.  The  revolvers  that  Osa  and  I  carried  in  our 
hip  pockets  seemed  heavy  as  lead.  At  last,  however, 
we  made  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  found  ourselves  at 
the  edge  of  a  clearing  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  diameter.  In  the  center,  around  a  collection  of 
huge  boo-boos  and  devil-devils,  were  a  thousand 
naked  savages.  That  was  my  first  estimate.  A  little 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    145 

later  I  divided  the  number  in  two,  but  even  at  that, 
there  were  more  savages  than  I  had  ever  before  seen 
at  one  time.  And  they  were  the  fiercest-looking  lot 
I  had  ever  laid  my  eyes  on.  White  lead,  calcimine,  red 
paint,  and  common  bluing  are  among  the  most  val- 
ued trade  articles  in  this  region,  and  the  savages  had 
invested  heavily  in  them,  and  besides  had  added  to 
their  make-up  boxes  yellow  ocher  and  coral  lime  and 
ghastly  purple  ashes.  Every  single  one  had  a  gun  or 
a  bow  and  arrows,  and  looked  as  if  he  would  use  it  at 
very  slight  provocation. 

As  we  appeared,  the  boom  of  the  boo-boos  ceased. 
The  savages  who  had  been  dancing  stopped.  Every 
eye  was  turned  on  us.  After  a  moment's  silence,  all 
the  natives  began  to  talk.  Then  a  number  separated 
themselves  from  the  mob,  and,  led  by  an  old  man 
who  was  smeared  with  yellow  ocher  from  the  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet,  approached  us. 

The  old  man  spoke  to  us  severely  in  beche-de-mer, 
asking  our  business. 

"We  walk  about,  no  more,"  I  explained  humbly. 
"We  bringem  presents  for  big  fellow  master  belong 
village." 

The  haughty  old  man  then  informed  us  that, 
though  he  himseK  was  the  biggest  chief  of  all,  there 


146  CANNIBAL-LAND 

were  many  other  chiefs  present,  and  that  I  mu 
make  presents  to  all  of  them.  He  was  not  at  all  po- 
lite about  it.  He  said  "must "  and  he  meant  " must." 
I  took  one  glance  at  the  hundreds  of  fierce,  painted 
faces  in  the  clearing,  and  then  I  had  one  of  the  boys 
bring  me  the  big  ditty-bag.  Then  and  there  I  dis- 
tributed about  twenty-five  dollars'  worth  of  trade- 
stuflF  —  the  most  I  had  ever  given  at  one  time. 

The  uproar  was  fairly  deafening  —  I  was  thor- 
oughly alarmed.  The  voices  of  the  savages  were 
angry.  Men  ran  from  group  to  group,  apparently 
giving  commands.  Moran  put  his  two  hands  in  his 
pockets  where  he  kept  his  revolvers  and  I  told  Osa 
to  do  likewise.  Our  boys  huddled  close  around  us. 
No  need  to  tell  them  to  keep  their  guns  ready. 

The  bag  was  soon  empty,  and  there  was  nothing 
further  to  do  but  await  developments.  To  retreat 
would  be  more  dangerous  than  to  stay.  In  order  to 
keep  Osa  from  guessing  how  scared  I  was,  I  got  out 
my  moving-picture  camera.  I  wish  I  could  have 
photographed  what  happened  then;  for  the  entire 
mob  broke  and  ran  for  cover.  I  wondered  if  they  had 
ever  seen  a  machine-gun.  I  could  n't  explain  their 
fright  on  any  other  grounds.  Only  old  Yellow  Ocher 
stood  his  ground.    He  was  scared,  but  game,  and 


I 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES     147 

asked  me  excitedly  what  I  was  up  to.  I  explained 
the  camera  to  him  and  opened  it  up  and  showed  him 
the  film  and  the  wheels.  He  shouted  to  the  otlier  na- 
tives to  come  back,  and  they  returned  to  the  clear- 
ing, muttering  and  casting  sullen  glances  in  our  di- 
rection. The  old  man  was  angry.  We  had  nearly 
broken  up  the  show.  He  gave  us  to  understand  that 
he  washed  his  hands  of  us. 

He  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  ceremony.  In 
a  few  moments  a  dozen  savages  took  their  places  at 
the  boo-boos  and  a  few  men  started  a  half-hearted 
chant.  A  score  of  young  savages  began  to  dance,  but 
without  much  spirit.  It  was  half  an  hour  before  they 
warmed  up,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  the  chant 
was  loud  and  punctuated  with  blood-thirsty  yells, 
and  a  hundred  men  were  dancing  in  the  clearing.  I 
call  the  performance  "dancing,"  but  it  was  simply  a 
march,  round  and  round,  quickening  gradually  to  a 
run  punctuated  by  leaps  and  yells.  Soon  women  and 
children  came  out  of  the  jungle.  That  was  a  good 
sign.  For  the  time  being,  we  were  in  no  danger. 

The  dance  ended  abruptly  with  a  mighty  yell. 
The  men  at  the  boo-boos  changed  their  rhythm  and 
the  twenty  savages  we  had  met  on  the  beach  burst 
from  the  jungle  into  the  clearing  and  began  to  dance. 


148  CANNIBAL-LAND 

There  was  a  rough  symbolism  in  their  dance.  But 
we  could  not  decipher  the  meaning  of  the  panto- 
mime. They  picked  up  a  bunch  of  leaves  here  and  de- 
posited them  there.  Then  they  charged  a  little  bun- 
dle of  sticks  and  iSnally  gathered  them  up  and  carried 
them  off.  When  they  were  tired  out,  they  withdrew 
to  the  side-lines,  and  another  group,  all  painted 
alike,  in  an  even  fiercer  pattern  than  that  of  the  first 
group,  made  a  similar  dramatic  entrance  and  danced 
themselves  into  exhaustion.  They  were  followed  by 
other  groups.  By  the  time  three  hours  had  passed, 
there  were  fully  a  thousand  savages  in  the  clearing. 
It  was  a  wonderful  sight.  My  "movie"  sense 
completely  overcame  my  fears,  and  I  ground  out 
roll  after  roll  of  film.  When  the  afternoon  was  well 
advanced,  a  hundred  savages  began  to  march  to 
slow  time  around  the  devil-devils.  Others  joined  in. 
They  increased  their  pace.  Soon  more  than  half  the 
natives  were  in  a  great  circle,  running  and  leaping 
and  shouting  around  the  clearing.  Those  who  were 
left  formed  little  circles  of  their  own,  the  younger 
men  dancing  and  the  older  ones  watching  with  un- 
friendly eyes  the  actions  of  the  rival  groups.  Even 
the  women  and  children  were  hopping  up  and  down 
and  shouting.  Occasionally  a  detachment  of  natives 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    149 

came  toward  us.  At  times  we  were  completely  sur- 
rounded, though  we  tried  our  best  by  moving  back- 
ward to  prevent  the  savages  from  getting  in  our  rear. 
As  the  dance  grew  wilder,  however,  the  savages 
lost  all  interest  in  us.  Soon  every  one  of  them  was 
dancing  in  the  clearing.  I  shall  never  forget  that 
dance  —  a  thousand  naked,  painted  savages,  run- 
ning and  leaping  in  perfect  time  to  the  strange  beat- 
beat-beat  of  the  boo-boos  and  the  wild,  monotonous 
chant  punctuated  with  brutal  yells.  The  contagion 
spread  to  the  women  and  children  and  they  hopped 
up  and  down  like  jumping-jacks  and  chanted  with 
the  men.  I  turned  the  crank  of  my  camera  like  mad. 
The  sun  sank  behind  the  trees  and  Osa  and  Moran 
urged  me  to  return  to  the  beach,  but  I  was  crazy 
with  excitement  over  the  picture  I  was  getting  and  I 
insisted  on  staying:  I  lighted  a  number  of  radium 
flares.  The  savages  muttered  a  bit,  but  they  were 
worked  up  to  too  high  a  pitch  to  stop  the  dance,  and, 
when  they  found  that  the  flares  did  no  harm,  they 
rather  liked  them.  Old  Yellow  Ocher,  seeing  that  the 
bluish-white  light  added  to  the  spectacular  effect, 
asked  me  for  some  more  flares.  I  gave  him  my  last 
two,  and  he  put  them  among  the  devil-devils  and 
lighted  them.    He  could  not  have  done  me  a  greater 


150  CANNIBAL-LAND 

service.  The  light  from  the  flares  made  it  possible 
to  get  a  picture  such  as  I  never  could  have  secured 
in  the  waning  daylight. 

The  savages  were  sweating  and  panting  with  their 
exertions,  but  now  they  danced  faster  than  ever. 
They  seemed  to  have  lost  their  senses.  They  leaped 
and  shouted  like  madmen.  Osa  swallowed  her  pride 
and  begged  me  to  put  up  my  camera,  and  at  last  I 
reluctantly  consented.  As  I  packed  my  equipment, 
I  found  two  hundred  sticks  of  tobacco  that  had 
escaped  my  notice.  Without  thinking  of  conse- 
quences, I  put  them  on  the  edge  of  the  clearing  and 
motioned  to  Yellow  Ocher  to  come  and  get  them. 
But  some  of  the  young  bucks  saw  them  first.  They 
leaped  toward  them.  The  first  dozen  got  them.  The 
next  hundred  fought  for  them.  The  dance  ended  in 
uproar. 

For  the  first  time  in  our  island  experiences,  Osa 
was  frightened.  She  took  to  her  heels  and  ran  as  she 
had  never  run  before.  The  boys  grabbed  up  my  cam- 
eras and  followed  her.  Captain  Moran  stood  by  me. 
He  urged  me  to  run,  but  I  felt  that,  if  we  did  so,  we 
should  have  the  whole  pack  on  us.  Old  Yellow  Ocher 
and  some  of  the  other  chiefs  came  up  to  us  and  yelled 
something  that  we  could  not  imderstand  and  did 


1 


DANCE  OF  THE  PAINTED  SAVAGES    151 

not  attempt  to  answer.  There  was  no  chance  for  ex- 
planations in  that  uproar.  We  edged  toward  the 
trail.  The  chiefs  pressed  after  us,  yelling  louder  than 
ever.  Their  men  were  at  their  heels.  Luckily  some 
of  the  natives  began  to  fight  among  themselves  and 
diverted  the  attention  of  the  majority  from  us.  Only 
a  small  group  followed  us  to  the  edge  of  the  hill. 
When  we  reached  the  trail,  Moran  said  we  had  bet- 
ter cut  and  run,  and  we  made  the  steep  descent  in 
record  time. 

Our  boys  were  a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us.  Osa, 
with  nothing  to  carry,  was  far  in  the  lead.  When  I 
caught  up  with  her,  she  was  crying,  not  with  fear, 
but  with  anger.  When  she  got  her  breath  back,  she 
told  me  what  she  thought  of  me  for  exposing  us  all 
to  danger  for  the  sake  of  a  few  feet  of  film.  I  took 
the  scolding  meekly,  for  I  knew  she  was  right.  But 
I  kept  wishing  that  we  had  been  twelve  white  men 
instead  of  three.  Then  I  could  have  seen  the  dance 
through  to  the  end. 


CHAPTER  XI 

TOMMAN  AND  THE  HEAD-CURING  ART 

We  were  safe  on  board  the  Amour,  but  we  could  still 
hear  the  boo-boos  marking  the  time  for  the  wild 
dance  back  in  the  hills.  I  awoke  several  times  dur- 
ing the  night.  The  boom-boom  still  floated  across 
the  water.  I  was  glad  that  we  had  taken  to  our  heels 
when  we  did,  though  I  still  regretted  the  picture  I 
might  have  got  if  we  could  have  stayed.  At  dawn, 
there  was  silence.  The  dance  was  over. 

A  trader  who  put  in  at  Southwest  Bay  late  in  the 
morning  told  us  of  a  man  who  had  been  brutally 
murdered  at  the  very  village  we  had  visited.  It  was 
his  belief  that  we  had  escaped  only  because  the  mem- 
ory of  the  punitive  expedition  that  had  avenged  the 
murder  was  still  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  natives. 
Even  that  memory  might  have  failed  to  protect  us, 
he  told  us,  if  the  natives  had  really  been  in  the  heat 
of  the  dance.  And  he  and  Captain  Moran  swapped 
yarns  about  savage  orgies  until  Osa  became  angry 
with  me  all  over  again  for  having  stayed  so  long  on 
the  hill  to  witness  the  dance. 

After  a  day's  rest,  we  continued  on  our  journey  in 


THE  HEAD-CURING  ART  153 

search  of  cannibals.  Our  next  stop  was  Tomman,  an 
island  about  half  a  mile  off  the  southernmost  tip  of 
Malekula.  Since  we  found  the  shore  lined  with  ca- 
noes, we  expected  to  be  surrounded  as  usual,  as  soon 
as  we  had  dropped  anchor,  by  natives  anxious  to 
trade.  To  our  surprise,  there  was  not  a  sign  of  life. 
We  waited  until  it  was  dark  and  then  gave  up  ex- 
pecting visitors,  for  the  savages  of  the  New  Hebrides 
rarely  show  themselves  outside  their  huts  after  dark 
for  fear  of  spirits.  Early  next  morning,  however,  we 
were  awakened  by  hoarse  shouts,  and  found  the 
Amour  surrounded  by  native  craft.  We  then  dis- 
covered that  we  had  arrived  inopportunely  in  the 
midst  of  a  dance.  Dances  in  the  New  Hebrides  are 
not  merely  social  affairs.  They  all  have  some  cere- 
monial significance  and  accordingly  are  not  to  be 
lightly  interrupted. 

Captain  Moran  assured  us  that,  since  the  natives 
of  this  island,  like  those  of  Vao,  were  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  the  Government  gunboat  to  be  on 
their  good  behavior  where  white  men  were  con- 
cerned, it  would  be  safe  to  go  ashore.  We  launched  a 
whaleboat  and  set  out  for  the  beach,  escorted  by 
about  a  hundred  savages,  who  came  to  meet  us  in 
canoes.   These  natives,  like  some  of  those  we  had 


154  CANNIBAL-LAND 

met  with  in  the  region  around  Southwest  Bay,  had 
curiously  shaped  heads.  Their  craniums  were  al- 
most twice  as  long  as  the  normal  cranium  and 
sloped  to  a  point  at  the  crown.  The  children,  since 
their  hair  was  not  yet  thick  enough  to  conceal  the 
conformation,  seemed  like  gnomes  with  high  brows 
and  heads  too  big  for  their  bodies. 

When  we  reached  shore,  we  beached  the  whale- 
boat  at  a  favorable  spot  and,  leaving  it  in  charge  of  a 
couple  of  the  crew,  followed  a  well-beaten  trail  that 
led  from  the  beach  to  a  village  near  by.  At  the  edge 
of  a  clearing  surrounded  by  ramshackle  huts,  we 
stopped  to  reconnoiter. 

I  have  never  seen  a  more  eerie  spectacle.  In  the 
center  of  the  clearing,  before  a  devil-devil,  an  old 
man  was  dancing.  Very  slowly  he  lifted  one  foot  and 
very  slowly  put  it  down;  then  he  lifted  the  other  foot 
and  put  it  down,  chanting  all  the  while  in  a  hoarse 
whisper.  At  the  farther  side  of  the  clearing,  a  group 
of  old  savages  were  squatting  near  a  smoldering  fire, 
intently  watching  one  of  their  number,  the  oldest 
and  most  wizened  of  them  all,  as  he  held  in  the 
smoke  a  human  head,  impaled  on  a  stick.  Near  by, 
on  stakes  set  in  the  ground,  were  other  heads. 

The  natives  who  had  accompanied  us  up  the  trail 


THE  HEAD-CURING  ART  155 

shouted  something  and  the  men  about  the  fire  looked 
up.  They  seemed  not  at  all  concerned  over  our  sud- 
den appearance  and  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  the 
heads.  As  for  the  old  dancer,  he  did  not  so  much  as 
glance  our  way. 

We  went  over  to  the  men  crouched  about  the  fire 
and  spoke  to  them.  They  paid  scant  attention  to 
Moran  and  me,  but  they  forsook  their  heads  to  look 
at  Osa.  She  was  always  a  source  of  wonder  and  as- 
tonishment to  the  natives,  most  of  whom  had  never 
before  seen  a  white  woman.  These  old  men  went 
through  the  usual  routine  of  staring  at  her  and  cau- 
tiously touching  her  hands  and  hair,  to  see  if  they 
were  as  soft  as  they  appeared  to  be. 

I  discovered  that  the  old  head-curer  knew  beche-de* 
mer  and  could  tell  me  something  of  the  complicated 
process  of  his  trade.  The  head  was  first  soaked  in  a 
chemical  mixture  that  hardened  the  skin  and,  to  a 
certain  extent,  at  least,  made  it  fireproof.  Next,  the 
curer  held  it  over  a  fire,  turning  and  turning  it  in  the 
smoke  until  the  fat  was  rendered  out  and  the  remain- 
ing tissue  was  thoroughly  dried.  After  the  head  had 
been  smeared  with  clay  to  keep  it  from  burning,  it 
was  again  baked  for  some  hours.  This  process  con- 
sumed about  a  week  of  constant  work.    The  dried 


156  CANNIBAL-LAND 

head  was  then  hung  up  for  a  time  in  a  basket  of  pan- 
danus  fiber,  made  in  the  shape  of  a  circular  native 
hut  with  a  thatched  roof,  and  finally  it  was  exhib- 
ited in  the  owner's  hut  or  in  a  ceremonial  house; 
but  for  a  year  it  had  to  be  taken  out  at  intervals  and 
smoked  again  in  order  to  preserve  it. 

The  old  head-curer  was  an  artist,  with  an  artist's 
pride  in  his  work.  He  told  me  that  he  was  the  only 
one  left  among  his  people  who  really  understood  the 
complicated  process  of  drying  heads.  The  young 
men  were  forsaking  the  ways  of  their  fathers.  Of  the 
old  men,  he  was  the  most  skilled.  All  the  important 
heads  were  brought  to  him  for  curing,  and  he  was 
employed  to  dry  the  bodies  of  great  chiefs,  smearing 
the  joints  with  clay  to  keep  the  members  from  falling 
apart,  turning  each  rigid  corpse  in  the  smoke  of  a 
smoldering  fire  until  it  was  a  shriveled  mummy, 
painting  the  shrunken  limbs  in  gay  colors,  and  sub- 
stituting pigs'  tusks  for  the  feet.  The  old  man  told 
me  that  heads  nowadays  are  not  what  they  were  in 
olden  times.  He  said  what  I  found  hard  to  believe 
—  that  the  craniums  of  his  ancestors  were  twice  as 
long  as  those  of  present-day  islanders. 

Specimens  of  the  head-curer's  art  were  displayed 
in  every  hut  in  the  village.  The  people  of  Tomman 


THE  HEAD-CURING  ART  157 

are  not  head-hunters  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word. 
They  do  not  go  on  head-raids  as  do  the  men  of 
Borneo.  But  if  they  kill  an  enemy,  they  take  his  head 
and  hang  it  up  at  home  to  frighten  off  the  evil  spir- 
its. The  heads  of  enemies  are  roughly  covered  with 
clay  and  hastily  and  carelessly  cured,  but  those  of 
relatives  are  more  scientifically  treated,  for  they  are 
to  be  cherished  in  the  family  portrait  gallery.  While 
the  natives  of  Tomman  do  not  produce  works  of  art 
comparable  to  the  heads  treated  by  the  Maoris  of 
New  Zealand,  the  results  of  their  handiwork  show  a 
certain  dignity  and  beauty.  One  forgets  that  the 
heads  were  once  those  of  living  men,  for  they  are 
dehumanized  and  like  sculptures.  Each  household 
boasted  a  few  mummies  and  a  number  of  heads,  and, 
to  our  surprise,  the  people  willingly  showed  us  their 
treasures  and  allowed  us  to  photograph  them.  In 
northern  Malekula,  as  we  had  learned,  it  is  as  much 
as  a  white  man's  life  is  worth  to  try  to  see  the  inte- 
rior of  a  head-hut,  and  demands  for  heads  —  or 
skulls,  rather,  for  the  natives  of  the  northern  part  of 
the  island  do  not  go  in  for  head-curing  —  are  usually 
met  with  sullen,  resentful  silence.  Here,  the  natives 
not  only  brought  out  heads  and  bodies  for  us  to 
photograph,  but  in  exchange  for  a  supply  of  tobacco 


158  CANNIBAL-LAND 

permitted  me  to  make  a  flashlight  picture  of  a  big 
ceremonial  hut  containing  about  fifty  heads  and 
fifteen  mummified  bodies. 

This  hut  seemed  to  be  a  club  for  the  men  of  the 
village.  Almost  every  village  of  the  New  Hebrides 
boasts  some  sort  of  a  club-house,  which  is  strictly 
taboo  for  women  and  children.  Here,  the  devil-dev- 
ils are  made  and,  it  is  rumored,  certain  mysterious 
rites  are  performed.  Be  that  as  it  may,  club-life  in 
the  New  Hebrides  seemed  to  me  to  be  as  stupid  and 
meaningless  as  it  usually  is  in  the  West.  Instead  of 
lounging  in  plush-covered  armchairs  and  smoking 
Havana  cigars,  the  men  of  the  New  Hebrides  lay  on 
the  ground  and  smoked  Virginia  cuttings  in  clay 
pipes.  Each  man  had  his  favorite  resting-place  —  a 
hollow  worn  into  the  ground  by  his  own  body.  He 
was  content  to  lie  there  for  hours  on  end,  almost  mo- 
tionless, saying  scarcely  a  word;  but  the  women  and 
children  outside  thought  that  he  was  engaged  in  the 
strange  and  wonderful  rites  of  his  "lodge"! 

Toward  evening  the  women  of  the  village  ap- 
peared with  loads  of  firewood  and  fruits  and  vege- 
tables. On  top  of  nearly  every  load  was  perched  a 
child  or  a  young  baby,  its  head  fitted  snugly  with  a 
basket  to  make  the  skull  grow  in  the  way  in  which; 


THE  HEAD-CURING  ART  159 

according  to  Tomman  ideals  of  beauty,  it  should  go. 
The  women  of  Tomman  we  found  a  trifle  more  inde- 
pendent than  those  of  other  islands  of  the  New  Heb- 
rides. Of  course,  their  upper  front  teeth  were  missing 
—  knocked  out  by  their  husbands  as  part  of  the  mar- 
riage ceremony.  The  gap  was  the  Tomman  sub- 
stitute for  a  wedding-ring.  But  on  Tomman,  as 
elsewhere  in  the  New  Hebrides,  wives  are  slaves. 
Since  a  good  wife  is  expensive,  costing  from  twenty 
to  forty  pigs,  and  the  supply  is  limited,  most  of  the 
available  women  are  cornered  by  the  rich.  A  young 
man  with  little  property  is  lucky  if  he  can  afford  one 
wife.  He  looks  forward  to  the  day  when  he  will  in- 
herit his  father's  women.  Then  he  will  have  perhaps 
a  dozen  willing  hands  to  work  for  him.  He  will  give 
a  great  feast  and,  if  he  kills  enough  pigs,  he  will  be 
made  a  chief. 

When  we  went  back  to  the  ship  at  sunset,  the  old 
man  was  still  doing  his  solitary  dance  in  front  of  the 
devil-devil.  In  the  morning,  when  we  returned  to 
the  village,  he  was  already  at  it,  one  foot  up,  one  foot 
down.  When  we  left  Tomman,  four  days  after  our 
arrival,  he  was  still  going  strong.  I  tried  to  discover 
the  reason  for  the  performance,  but  the  natives  either 
could  not  or  would  not  tell  me. 


L 


160  CANNIBAL-LAND 

Although  Tomman  was  an  interesting  spot,  we 
did  not  remain  there  long.  I  was  looking  for  canni- 
bals, and  experience  had  taught  me  that  head- 
hunters  were  rarely  cannibals  or  cannibals  head- 
hunters.  So,  since  our  time  in  the  islands  was 
growing  short,  we  decided  to  move  on. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

We  chugged  away  from  Tomman  and  for  a  week  we 
cruised  along  the  southern  end  of  Malekula.  In  this 
region,  the  mountains  come  down  to  the  sea.  Be- 
yond them  Hes  dangerous  territory.  It  was  not  safe 
for  us  to  cross  them  with  the  force  we  had;  so  we  had 
to  be  content  with  inspecting  the  coast.  There  we 
found  only  deserted  villages  and  a  few  scattered  huts 
inhabited  by  old  men  left  to  die  alone. 

Finally  we  rounded  the  end  of  the  island  and 
steamed  up  the  eastern  coast.  One  evening  we  came 
to  anchor  in  Port  Sandwich  —  a  lovely,  land-locked 
bay.  Since  it  was  very  late,  we  deferred  explorations 
until  the  following  morning  and  turned  in  almost  as 
soon  as  we  had  anchored,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  work 
betimes. 

At  about  three  o'clock,  Osa  and  I,  who  slept  on 
deck,  were  rudely  awakened  by  being  thrown  into 
the  scuppers.  We  pulled  ourselves  to  our  feet  and 
held  tight  to  the  rail.  The  ship  rolled  and  trembled 
violently.   Though  there  seemed  to  be  no  wind,  the 


162  CANNIBAL-LAND 

water  boiled  around  us  and  the  trees  on  shore  swayed 
and  groaned  in  the  still  air. 

Captain  Moran  and  his  brother  came  rushing  from 
their  cabins.  The  black  crew  tumbled  out  of  the 
hold,  yelling  with  terror.  There  was  a  sound  of 
breaking  crockery .''  A  big  wave  washed  over  the  deck 
and  carried  overboard  everything  that  was  loose. 
The  water  bubbled  up  from  below  as  if  from  a  giant 
caldron  and  iishes  leaped  high  into  the  air.  After 
what  seemed  to  be  half  an  hour,  but  was  in  reality 
a  few  minutes,  the  disturbance  subsided.  We  had 
been  through  an  earthquake. 

The  volcanic  forces  that  brought  the  New  Heb- 
rides into  being  are  still  actively  at  work.  Small 
shocks  are  almost  a  daily  occurrence  in  the  islands. 
But  this  had  been  no  ordinary  earthquake.  The 
next  morning,  when  we  went  ashore,  we  found  that 
half  the  native  huts  of  the  little  settlement  near  the 
mouth  of  the  bay  had  collapsed  like  card  houses. 
The  devil-devils  and  boo-boos  stood  at  drunken  an- 
gles —  some  of  them  had  fallen  to  the  ground  —  and, 
in  the  village  clearings  and  other  level  places,  the 
ground  looked  like  a  piece  of  wet  paper  that  had  been 
stretched  until  it  was  full  of  wrinkles  and  jagged 
tears.    Streaks  of  red  clay  marked  the  courses  of 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    163 

landslides  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains.  The 
old  men  of  the  settlement  said  that  the  earthquake 
was  the  worst  they  had  ever  experienced.  And  when 
we  returned  to  Vao,  we  found  that  two  sides  of  our 
own  bungalow  had  caved  in  as  a  result  of  the  shock. 

A  visit  ta  the  volcano  Lopevi  gave  us  further 
proof  of  the  uncertain  foundation  on  which  the  is- 
lands rest. 

On  the  morning  after  the  earthquake,  Mr.  King, 
the  British  Commissioner,  appeared  in  the  Eu- 
phrosyne,  on  his  way  to  Vao  to  fetch  us  for  a  visit  at 
Vila.  We  told  him  regretfully  that  we  had  no  time  for 
visiting,  and  then  he  proposed  a  jaunt  to  Lopevi,  a 
great  volcano  about  thirty  miles  from  Malekula.  We 
were  glad  of  the  opportunity  to  see  the  volcano, 
which  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in 
the  world.  So  we  said  good-bye  to  Captain  Moran, 
who  departed  at  once  to  continue  his  interrupted 
trading,  and  we  transferred  our  belongings  to  the 
j^^Euphrosyne,  where  we  reveled  in  the  unaccustomed 
luxury  of  good  beds  and  good  service  by  attentive 
servants. 

We  left  Port  Sandwich  at  daybreak,  and  in  a  few 
^hours  we  saw  Lopevi,  a  perfect  cone,  rising  abruptly 
[out  of  the  water  to  a  height  of  nearly  six  thousand 


164  CANNIBAL-LAND 

feet.  When  we  came  within  range,  I  got  my  camera 
ready.  A  fine  fringe  of  thunder-clouds  encircled  the 
island  about  halfway  down,  but  the  top  was  free. 
The  light  was  perfect.  I  was  grinding  happily  away, 
when  a  miracle  happened.  Lopevi  sent  up  a  cloud  of 
smoke.  Then  she  growled  ominously,  and  shot  out 
great  tongues  of  lapping  flame.  More  smoke,  and 
she  subsided  into  calm  again.  I  had  secured  a  fine 
picture  and  congratulated  myself  on  having  arrived 
just  in  the  nick  of  time.  Suddenly,  as  we  discussed 
the  event,  Lopevi  became  active  again.  And  after 
that  there  was  an  eruption  every  twenty  minutes 
from  ten  in  the  morning  until  four  in  the  afternoon. 
We  steamed  all  around  the  island,  stopping  at  favor- 
able points  to  wait  for  a  good  "shot."  At  four  o'clock, 
we  sailed  for  Api,  where  we  were  to  harbor  for  the 
night.  And  from  the  time  we  turned  our  backs  on 
Lopevi,  there  was  not  another  eruption.  Her  cone 
was  in  sight  for  an  hour  that  night,  and  next  morn- 
ing, from  Ringdove  Bay  where  we  were  anchored, 
she  was  plainly  visible.  But  she  did  not  emit  a  single 
whiff  of  smoke.  Osa  called  her  our  trained  volcano. 
We  remained  on  Api  for  four  days.  Since  Mr. 
King  was  due  back  at  Vila,  he  had  to  leave  on  the 
morning  after  our  arrival;  so  we  took  up  our  quar- 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    165 

ters  with  Mr.  Mitchell,  the  English  manager  of  one 
of  the  largest  coconut  plantations  on  the  island. 

In  more  civilized  regions  one  might  hesitate  be- 
fore descending,  bag  and  baggage,  upon  an  un- 
known host,  to  wait  for  a  very  uncertain  steamer; 
but  in  the  islands  of  the  South  Seas  one  is  almost  al- 
ways sure  of  a  welcome.  The  traders  and  planters 
lead  lonely  lives.  They  have  just  three  things  to 
look  forward  to — the  monthly  visit  of  the  Pacifique, 
a  trip  once  a  year  to  Sydney  or  New  Caledonia,  and 
dinner.  For  the  Englishman  in  exile,  dinner  is  the 
greatest  event  of  the  day.  He  rises  at  daybreak  and, 
after  a  hasty  cup  of  coffee,  goes  out  on  the  planta- 
tion to  see  that  work  is  duly  under  way.  He  break- 
fasts at  eleven  and  then  sleeps  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
through  the  heat  of  the  day.  His  day's  work  is  over 
at  six;  then  he  has  a  bath  and  a  whiskey-and-soda  — 
and  dinner.  Another  drink,  a  little  quiet  reading, 
then  off  with  the  dinner  clothes  and  to  bed. 

Yes,  I  said  dinner  clothes.  For  dinner  clothes  are 
as  much  de  rigueur  in  Ringdove  Bay  as  they  are  on 
Piccadilly.  I,  who  have  a  rowdy  fondness  for  free- 
and-easy  dress  and  am  only  too  glad  when  I  can  es- 
cape from  the  world  of  dinner  coats  and  white  ties, 
suggested,  on  the  second  evening  of  our  stay  at  Api, 


166  CANNIBAL-LAND 

that,  since  Mrs.  Johnson  was  used  to  informal  attire, 
we  could  dispense,  if  Mr.  Mitchell  desired,  with  the 
ceremony  of  dressing. 

"But,  my  dear  Johnson,"  said  Mitchell,  "I  dress 
for  dinner  when  I  am  here  alone." 

That  ended  the  matter.  I  knew  that  I  was  up 
against  an  article  of  the  British  creed  and  might  as 
well  conform. 

When  I  first  went  out  to  the  South  Seas,  I  was 
disposed  to  regard  the  punctiliousness  in  dress  of  the 
isolated  Britisher  as  more  or  less  of  an  affectation. 
But  now  I  realize  that  a  dinner  coat  is  a  symbol.  It 
is  a  man's  declaration  to  himself  and  the  world  that 
he  has  a  firm  grasp  on  his  self-respect.  A  French- 
man in  the  islands  can  go  barefooted  and  half- 
clothed,  can  live  a  life  ungoverned  by  routine,  rising 
at  will,  going  to  bed  at  will,  working  at  will,  can 
throw  off  every  convention,  and  still  maintain  his 
dignity.  With  the  Anglo-Saxon  it  is  different.  The 
Englishman  must  hold  fast  to  an  ordered  existence 
or,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  islands  will  "get" 
him. 

It  is  customary  to  waste  a  lot  of  pity  on  the  trader 
and  the  planter  in  remote  places  —  lonely  outposts 
of  civilization,  but,  from  my  observation,  they  do  not 


I 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    167 

need  pity.  The  man  who  stays  in  the  islands  is  fitted 
for  the  Hfe  there;  if  he  is  n't,  he  does  n't  stay,  and,  if 
he  does  stay,  he  can  retire,  after  fifteen  or  twenty 
years,  with  a  tidy  fortune. 

Of  course  the  road  to  fortune  is  a  long  and  hard 
one.  The  average  planter  starts  out  with  a  little 
capital  —  say  five  hundred  dollars.  He  purchases  a 
plot  of  land.  The  price  he  pays  depends  upon  the 
locality  in  which  he  buys.  In  regions  where  the  na- 
tives are  still  fairly  unsophisticated,  he  may  get  his 
land  for  almost  nothing.  Even  where  the  natives 
are  most  astute,  he  can  buy  a  square  mile  for  what 
he  would  pay  for  an  acre  back  home.  His  next  step 
is  to  get  his  land  cleared.  To  that  end,  he  buys  a 
whaleboat  and  goes  out  to  recruit  natives  to  act  as 
laborers.  He  needs  five  or  six  blacks.  They  will 
build  his  house  and  clear  his  land  and  plant  his  coco- 
nuts. Since  it  takes  seven  years  for  the  coconuts  to 
mature,  sweet  potatoes  and  cotton  must  be  planted 
between  the  rows  of  trees.  The  sweet  potatoes,  with 
a  little  rice,  will  furnish  all  the  food  required  by  the 
blacks.  The  cotton,  if  the  planter  is  diligent  and 
lucky,  will  pay  current  expenses  until  the  coconuts 
begin  bearing. 

Though  his  small  capital  of  five  hundred  dollars 


168  CANNIBAL-LAND 

may  be  eaten  up  early  in  the  game,  the  settler  need 
not  despair.  The  big  trading  companies  that  do  busi- 
ness in  the  islands  will  see  him  through  if  he  shows 
any  signs  of  being  made  of  the  right  stuff.  They  will 
give  him  credit  for  food  and  supplies  and  they  will 
provide  him  with  knives,  calico,  and  tobacco,  which 
he  can  barter  with  the  blacks  for  the  sandalwood  and 
copra  that  will  help  balance  his  account  with  the 
companies.  And  after  the  first  trying  seven  years, 
his  troubles  are  about  over  —  if  he  can  get  labor 
enough  to  keep  his  plantation  going. 

Even  in  the  remote  islands  of  the  New  Hebrides, 
the  labor  problem  has  reared  its  head.  The  em- 
ployer, in  civilized  regions,  has  a  slight  advantage  re- 
sulting from  the  fact  that  men  must  work  to  live.  In 
the  New  Hebrides,  indeed  all  throughout  Melanesia, 
the  black  man  can  live  very  comfortably,  according 
to  his  own  standards,  on  what  nature  provides.  Only 
a  minimum  of  effort  is  required  to  secure  food  and 
clothing  and  shelter,  and  most  of  that  effort  is  put 
forth  by  the  female  slaves  he  calls  his  wives.  Even 
the  experienced  recruiter  finds  it  hard  to  get  the 
Melanesian  to  exchange  his  life  of  ease  for  a  life  of 
toil.  And  the  inexperienced  recruiter  finds  it  very 
hard.  The  days  when  natives  could  be  picked  up  on 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    169 

any  beach  are  past.  The  blacks  in  the  more  acces- 
sible regions  know  what  recruiting  means  —  two 
years  of  hard  labor,  from  which  there  is  no  escape 
and  from  which  a  man  may  or  may  not  return  home. 
So  the  recruiter  must  look  for  hands  in  the  interior, 
where  knowledge  of  the  white  man  and  his  ways 
has  not  penetrated.  Even  here,  the  inexperienced 
recruiter  is  at  a  disadvantage.  For  the  experienced 
recruiter  has  invariably  preceded  him. 

Each  year,  the  number  of  available  recruits  is 
growing  fewer,  for  the  native  population  is  dwin- 
dling rapidly.  As  a  result,  the  cost  of  labor  is  high.  In 
the  Solomons,  one  may  secure  a  native  for  a  three 
years'  term  at  five  or  six  pounds  a  year  in  the  case  of 
inexperienced  workmen,  or  at  nine  pounds  a  year  in 
the  case  of  natives  who  have  already  served  for  three 
years.  In  the  New  Hebrides,  planter  bids  against 
planter,  and  the  native  benefits,  receiving  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  pounds  a  year  for  his  work.  The 
planters  complain  of  the  high  cost  of  labor.  But  the 
big  planters,  the  capitalists  of  the  South  Seas,  who 
have  their  chains  of  copra  groves,  with  a  white  su- 
perintendent in  charge  of  each  one,  certainly  do  not 
suffer.  I  remember  being  on  one  big  Melanesian 
plantation  on  the  day  when  natives  were  paid  for 


170  CANNIBAL-LAND 

two  years'  work  all  in  a  lump.  About  four  thou- 
sand dollars  was  distributed  among  the  workers.  I 
watched  them  spend  it  in  the  company  store.  A 
great  simple  black,  clad  in  a  nose-stick  and  a  yard  of 
calico,  would  come  in  and  after  an  hour  of  happy 
shopping  would  go  off  blissfully  with  little  or  no 
money  and  a  collection  of  cheap  mirrors  and  beads 
and  other  worthless  gew-gaws  all  in  a  shiny  new 
"bokkus  b'long  bell."  By  night,  about  three  thou- 
sand dollars  had  been  taken  in  by  the  company  store- 
keeper. I  was  reminded  of  a  rather  grimly  humorous 
story  of  a  day's  receipts  that  totaled  only  $1800  after 
a  $2000  pay-day.  When  the  report  reached  the  main 
office  in  Sydney,  a  curt  note  was  sent  to  the  planta- 
tion store-keeper  asking  what  had  become  of  the 
other  $200! 

There  are  certainly  two  sides  to  the  labor  question 
in  the  New  Hebrides.  Yet  the  whole  development  of 
the  islands  hangs  upon  cheap  and  efficient  labor. 
Where  it  is  to  come  from  is  a  question.  The  recruit- 
ing of  Orientals  for  service  in  British  possessions  in 
the  South  Seas  is  forbidden.  Even  if  it  were  per- 
mitted, it  would  not  solve  the  problem,  for  the  coolie 
of  China  or  Japan  or  India  is  not  adapted  to  the 
grilling  labor  of  clearing  bush. 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    171 

Mr.  Mitchell  discussed  the  labor  problem  as  long 
and  as  bitterly  as  any  employer  back  home.  The 
natives  of  Api,  while  friendly  and  mild,  were  en- 
tirely averse  to  toil.  He  had  to  import  hands  from 
other  islands.  Only  occasionally  could  he  persuade 
the  Api  people  to  do  a  few  days'  work  in  order  to 
secure  some  object  "belong  white  man." 

Often  they  coveted  curious  things.  One  morning, 
during  our  stay,  a  delegation  of  natives  appeared 
and  said  they  had  come  for  "  big-f ellow-bokkus 
(box)."  A  servant,  summoned  by  Mitchell,  brought 
out  a  wooden  coffin,  one  of  the  men  counted  out 
some  money,  and  the  natives  shouldered  their  "  bok- 
kus"  and  went  away, 

Mitchell  laughed  as  he  watched  them  depart. 
That  coffin  had  a  history.  About  six  weeks  pre- 
viously, a  delegation  of  natives  had  appeared,  with 
a  black  who  had  seen  service  on  a  New  Zealand 
plantation  acting  as  spokesman.  He  informed  Mitch- 
ell that  their  old  chief  was  dying  and  that  they  had 
decided  to  pay  him  the  honor  of  burying  him  in 
"bokkus  belong  white  man."  They  asked  Mitchell 
if  he  would  provide  such  a  "bokkus"  and  for  how 
much.  Mitchell  had  a  Chinese  carpenter  and  a  little 
supply  of  timber;  so  he  very  gladly  consented  to 


172  CANNIBAL-LAND 


have  a  coffin  made.  He  figured  the  cost  at  ten 
pounds.  That  appeared  to  the  delegation  to  be  ex- 
cessive, and  they  went  oflF  to  the  hills.  The  next  day, 
however,  they  reappeared  and  requested  that  he 
make  a  coffin  half  the  size  for  half  the  money.  Mitch- 
ell protested  that  a  coffin  half  the  size  originally 
figured  upon  would  not  be  long  enough  to  hold  the 
chief.  And  they  replied  that  they  would  cut  his 
arms  and  legs  oflf  to  make  him  fit  in.  At  that,  Mitch- 
ell, with  an  eye  to  labor  supply,  said  that,  if  they 
must  have  a  coffin,  they  must  have  a  proper  coffin. 
He  would  order  the  carpenter  to  make  one  large 
enough  to  hold  the  chief  without  mutilation,  and  he 
would  charge  them  only  five  pounds  for  it,  though 
that  meant  a  loss  to  him.  The  carpenter  went  to 
work.  Most  of  the  village  came  down  to  supervise 
the  job,  and  every  few  hours,  until  the  coffin  was 
finished,  a  messenger  reported  on  the  chief's  condi- 
tion. When  the  "bokkus"  was  at  last  done,  they 
carried  it  up  the  trail  with  great  rejoicing.  But  the 
next  day  they  brought  it  back.  The  old  chief  was  up 
and  about,  and  they  had  no  use  for  it.  They  laid  it 
down  at  Mitchell's  feet  and  demanded  their  money 
back.  Mitchell  protested  that  he  had  no  use  for  the 
coffin,  either,  but  they  were  firm.  And  he,  remember- 


WHITE  MAN  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS    173 

ing  how  diflScult  it  is  to  get  hands  in  the  copra-cutting 
season,  meekly  returned  the  five  pounds,  and  put 
the  coffin  in  his  storehouse.  Now,  a  month  later,  the 
old  chief  had  died,  and  the  natives  had  come  for  the 
coffin.  We  could  hear  them  chanting  as  they  went 
up  the  trail. 

The  next  day  we  set  sail  on  the  Pacifique,  which 
had  arrived  during  the  night  with  letters  and  papers 
a  month  old,  and  we  were  dropped  at  Port  Sand- 
wich, which  was  sparsely  populated  with  sullen  and 
subdued  savages,  to  await  whatever  trader  might 
happen  along  to  take  us  back  to  Vao.  We  had  used 
all  our  films  and  were  thoroughly  tired  of  Port  Sand- 
wich when  a  trader  finally  put  in  an  appearance.  His 
boat  was  a  twenty-four-foot  launch,  barely  large 
enough  to  contain  us  and  our  equipment.  When  we 
hoisted  our  dinghy  aboard,  its  bow  and  stern  pro- 
truded several  feet  beyond  the  sides  of  the  launch. 
Next  morning,  with  some  misgivings,  we  set  out  on 
the  fifty-five-mile  journey  that  would  complete  our 
round  of  Malekula  and  bring  us  back  to  Vao. 

We  got  "home"  about  four  in  the  afternoon,  tired 
and  half -cooked  from  the  broiling  sun  that  had  beat 
down  upon  us  all  day.  We  received  a  royal  welcome. 
A  great  crowd  of  natives  met  us  at  the  beach,  and 


174  CANNIBAL-LAND 

each  seized  a  box  or  package  and  carried  it  at 
top  speed  up  to  the  bungalow.  In  half  an  hour 
everything  was  in  the  house.  It  had  been  a  long 
time  since  our  Vao  neighbors  had  had  any  of  our 
tobacco! 


1 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ESPmiTU  SANTO  AND  A  CANNIBAL  FEAST 

For  two  days  we  developed  films  and  plates.  On 
the  third,  we  attended  what  might  be  called  the  New 
Year's  celebration  of  Vao.  Fires  are  made  among 
the  islanders  by  the  primitive  method  by  rubbing 
two  sticks  together.  Though  the  operation  takes 
only  a  minute,  the  savages  are  too  lazy  to  light  a  fire 
every  time  they  need  one,  so  once  a  year,  in  the  larg- 
est house  of  the  village,  they  make  a  big  fire,  which 
is  kept  burning  to  furnish  embers  from  which  all  the 
other  fires  may  be  lighted.  At  the  end  of  the  year, 
the  fire  is  put  out  with  great  solemnity,  and  a  new 
one  is  lighted.  The  ceremony  lasts  all  day  and  all 
night.  It  is  called  "killing  the  Mankki." 

On  the  morning  of  the  festivities,  bush  natives  be- 
gan to  arrive  before  daylight.  The  young  boys  of 
Vao  served  as  ferrymen.  A  group  of  men  would  come 
down  to  the  beach  at  Malekula  and  shout  across  the 
water,  and  the  Vao  boys  would  put  out  in  their 
funny  little  crooked  canoes  —  for  wood  is  so  scarce 
that  even  bent  trees  are  made  to  do  duty  as  dugouts 
—  and  bring  back  a  load  of  passengers.    Natives 


176  CANNIBAL-LAND 

came  from  other  islands  near  by.  By  night,  there 
were  more  than  a  thousand  people  on  the  islands. 

From  early  in  the  morning,  there  was  dancing  and 
pig-killing  in  the  clearings  of  the  three  villages.  The 
different  tribes  did  not  mingle  together.  One  group 
would  come  out  of  the  bush  into  the  clearing,  dance 
its  dance,  kill  a  score  or  so  of  pigs,  and  then  retire 
into  the  bush  again. 

It  was  bad  weather  for  photography.  It  rained  all 
day  —  a  fine,  drizzling  rain.  But  I  worked  hard,  hop- 
ing to  secure  some  good  film,  for  the  dances  were  un- 
usually interesting.  One  especially  good  dance  was  a 
snake  dance,  in  which  the  natives  brandished  small 
snakes  tied  to  coconut  leaves.  They  are  deadly  afraid 
of  snakes.  They  have  a  saying  that  holds  good  pretty 
much  the  world  over,  to  the  effect  that  snakes  with 
blunt  tails  are  always  poisonous  and  those  with 
long,  pointed  tails  are  harmless.  I  noted  that  the 
snakes  used  for  the  dance  were  very  small  and  of  a 
long-tailed  variety.  At  the  end  of  the  dance  each 
man  killed  his  snake  and  fed  it  to  a  pig.  Then  each 
man  killed  a  pig. 

The  slaughter  of  pigs  was  enormous.  I  am  sure 
some  five  hundred  must  have  been  killed  during  the 
day  —  far  more  than  could  be  eaten.    As  each  pig 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  177 

was  killed,  his  tusks  were  removed  and  placed  upon 
platforms  that  had  been  erected  to  hold  them.  Pigs' 
tusks  are  always  carefully  preserved.  They  orna- 
ment the  houses.  They  form  necklaces  for  the  devil- 
devils.  They  are  placed  in  the  crotches  of  trees. 

I  was  convinced,  as  the  day  wore  on,  that  pork 
was  not  the  only  meat  on  the  bill  of  fare.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  I  was  at  last  hot  on  the  trail  of  cannibal- 
ism; the  men  from  Malekula  had  brought  with  them 
strange  packages  wrapped  in  leaves,  which,  I  sus- 
pected, contained  human  flesh.  The  action  of  the 
blacks  confirmed  my  suspicion,  for  they  guarded 
their  packages  carefully,  and  would  not  let  me  come 
near  with  my  cameras. 

They  were  threatening  in  their  attitude  all  day. 
Even  my  tobacco  did  not  thaw  them  out.  The  Vao 
people  tolerated  me,  in  return  for  a  case  of  tobacco, 
but  their  eyes  were  far  from  friendly,  and  the  old 
men  muttered  evilly  every  time  they  looked  our 
way. 

By  dark  things  were  getting  lively.  The  mob  of 
savages  surged  back  and  forth  from  one  village  to 
another,  shouting  and  singing.  I  made  a  great  dis- 
covery for  thirsty  America  —  that  people  can  actu- 
ally get  drunk  on  imagination.    The  natives  had  no 


178  CANNIBAL-LAND 

intoxicating  liquor.  Their  only  drink  was  water,  and 
yet  they  lurched  drunkenly  when  they  walked,  and 
sang  as  only  drunken  men  and  women  sing. 

I  did  not  see  the  fire  put  out  and  the  new  one 
built.  As  it  grew  later,  the  mob  became  wilder,  I 
began  to  think  of  the  long,  dark  trail  to  the  bunga- 
low, where  we  would  be  absolutely  at  the  mercy  of 
lurking  savages,  and  decided  that  discretion  was  the 
better  part  of  valor.  So  Osa  and  I  went  home.  We 
slept  with  our  guns  handy  —  and  we  did  not  sleep 
much  at  that,  for  the  boo-boos  sounded  all  night  and 
the  shouting  and  singing  sometimes  surged  very 
near. 

We  spent  the  next  few  days  in  visits  to  the  north- 
ern coast  of  Malekula,  but  we  did  not  dare  venture 
inland,  for  the  attitude  of  the  natives  was  at  once 
suspicious  and  threatening.  We  talked  the  matter 
over  and  decided  that  we  had  seen  about  enough  of 
Malekula  and  Vao  and  might  as  well  pursue  our  in- 
vestigations elsewhere.  Espiritu  Santo  was  some  forty 
miles  away.  In  the  southern  portion  there  was  re- 
ported to  be  a  race  of  dwarfs,  and  cannibalism  was 
said  to  be  general  there,  as  on  Malekula.  We  had  al- 
most despaired  of  getting  actual  proof  that  man  ate 
man  in  the  New  Hebrides.    We  ourselves  had  seen 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  179 

enough  to  be  convinced  that  "long  pig"  was  on 
many  a  bill  of  fare,  but  we  could  not  prove  anything; 
for,  since  the  Government  metes  out  severe  punish- 
I  ment  to  eaters  of  human  flesh,  the  savages  are  care- 
ful not  to  be  caught  at  their  ghoulish  feasts.  Still, 
our  luck  might  turn,  we  thought,  if  we  changed  is- 
lands, and  we  should  find  the  evidence  we  had  been 
seeking  for  so  many  weeks. 

The  very  day  after  we  made  this  decision,  a  small 
cutter  nosed  into  the  passage  between  Vao  and  Mal- 
ekula.  The  owner  was  a  full-blooded  Tongan  trader, 
named  Powler.  He  was  on  his  way  to  get  some  coco- 
nuts he  had  bought  from  a  native  on  an  island  near 
by,  but  he  promised  to  return  in  a  few  days  and  take 
us  to  Santo.  When  he  arrived,  we  had  our  equip- 
ment packed  and  were  ready  to  go  aboard.  The  na- 
.  tives  helped  us  with  a  will  and  showed  real  regret  at 
parting  with  us,  for  they  knew  that  they  would  never 
again  get  so  much  tobacco  in  return  for  so  little 
work. 

The  wind  was  favorable,  and  we  fairly  flew  along. 
Shortly  after  dark  we  anchored  off  Tongoa,  a  small 
island  a  stone's  throw  from  Santo.  To  my  great  de- 
light, Powler  agreed  to  remain  with  us.  He  was  a 
great,  good-natured  giant,  never  out  of  sorts  and 


180  CANNIBAL-LAND 

strong  as  an  ox.  I  wished  we  had  met  with  him 
sooner.  The  natives  trusted  him.  His  dark  skin  and 
his  abiHty  to  grasp  the  languages  of  the  island  tribes 
stood  him  in  good  stead.  Besides,  he  had  the  reputa- 
tion, among  both  natives  and  whites,  of  being  abso- 
lutely honest  in  his  dealings  —  a  trait  as  rare  in  the 
South  Seas  as  elsewhere.  In  his  company,  we  went 
ashore  early  on  the  morning  after  our  arrival. 

We  found  the  men  of  Santo,  who  gathered  on  the 
beach  to  greet  us,  quite  different  in  type  from  the 
Malekula  bush  savages.  They  were  smaller  and  more 
gracefully  built.  They  wore  flowers  and  feathers  in 
their  hair.  They  had  a  curious  custom  of  removing 
part  of  the  bone  that  divides  the  nostrils  so  that 
the  bridges  of  their  noses  had  fallen  in  and  they 
appeared  to  be  always  scowling.  To  enhance  their 
fierceness  still  further,  they  put  sticks  through  their 
noses. 

Such  nose  ornaments  are  characteristic  of  the 
blacks  of  the  South  Seas.  The  Solomon  Islander 
wears  a  ring  fashioned  from  bone  or  shell  and  highly 
polished  and  ornamented.  The  native  of  Santa 
Cruz  adorns  himself  with  a  piece  of  polished  tor- 
toise-shell shaped  like  a  padlock.  But  the  man  of 
the  New  Hebrides  thrusts  into  his  nose  anything 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  181 

that  he  happens  upon  —  usually  a  stick  picked  up 
along  the  trail. 

To  my  great  delight,  the  Santo  men  wore  a  gee- 
string  of  calico.  As  I  have  said  before,  the  dress  of  the 
men  of  Malekula,  if  you  can  call  it  dress,  draws  at- 
tention to  their  sex  rather  than  conceals  it.  On  my 
first  visit  among  them,  I  had  taken  motion-pictures 
of  them  as  they  were.  When  I  returned  to  America, 
I  found  that  naked  savages  shocked  the  public. 
Some  of  my  best  films  were  absolutely  unsalable.  On 
this  second  trip,  accordingly,  I  managed,  whenever 
possible,  to  persuade  the  savages  to  wear  geestrings 
or  loin-cloths  or  aprons  of  leaves.  Since  "costum- 
ing "  was  very  difficult  (the  blacks,  naturally  enough, 
could  see  no  reason  for  it),  I  was  glad  that  I  should 
not  have  to  spend  time  in  persuading  the  men  of 
Santo  to  put  on  more  clothing. 

At  daybreak  on  the  following  morning,  we  started 
for  the  hills.  With  us  were  Powler  and  three  of  his 
boys  and  fifteen  trustworthy  Tongoa  natives.  We 
were  bound  for  a  village  of  pottery-makers  —  but 
we  never  got  there.  We  had  tramped  for  about  three 
hours  when  we  came  suddenly  upon  a  group  of  lit- 
tle men.  They  were  too  surprised  to  run,  and  too 
frightened.  They  were  all,  with  the  exception  of  one 


182  CANNIBAL-LAND 

of  their  number  who  carried  a  gun  as  big  as  he  was, 
armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  but  they  did  not  show 
any  hostility.  Instead,  they  just  gathered  close  to- 
gether and  stared  at  us  in  terror. 

These  were  the  dwarfs  I  had  heard  about.  I  got 
out  some  presents  for  them.  Soon  their  timidity 
wore  off,  and  I  persuaded  them  to  walk  one  by  one 
under  my  outstretched  arm.  Although  their  fuzzy 
wool  stood  out  in  great  bushy  mops,  not  a  hair 
touched  my  arm  as  they  passed  under.  There  were 
sixteen  of  them,  all  told.  Five  were  old  fellows  with 
grizzled  whiskers,  ten  were  of  middle  age,  and  one, 
the  tallest  of  them  all,  was  a  boy  of  about  fifteen. 

We  settled  down  near  a  stream  and  I  took  pic- 
tures as  long  as  the  light  lasted.  That  night,  our  lit- 
tle friends  camped  close  by,  and  the  next  day,  when 
we  set  out  for  the  beach,  they  followed  us.  We 
showed  them  everything  we  had  in  our  trunks.  They 
were  as  pleased  as  children,  and,  when  I  allowed  the 
old  chief  to  shoot  my  big  automatic  revolver,  he 
fairly  danced  with  excitement. 

The  next  day,  I  sent  messengers  into  the  hills  to 
hunt  for  a  chief  about  whom  Mr.  King  had  told  us. 
This  chief  had  achieved  a  great  reputation  as  a 
prophet  and  a  worker  of  magic.  A  year  before,  he  had 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  183 

been  nobody  —  just  a  savage.  Then  he  had  gone 
mad.  He  had  once  been  recruited  as  a  member  of  the 
crew  of  a  mission  ship,  where  he  had  heard  hymns 
and  Bible  stories,  which  he  now  adapted  to  his  own 
use.  He  told  the  natives  there  was  going  to  be  a 
great  flood,  which  would  cover  Santo.  He  himself, 
however,  would  not  be  drowned,  for  he  was  going  to 
bring  Hat  Island,  a  little  island  off  the  coast,  over  to 
rest  on  Santo  Peak.  Hat  Island  was  a  barren  and 
undesirable  piece  of  real  estate,  but  the  prophet  said 
that  he  had  made  arrangements  to  have  twenty  Eu- 
ropean steamers  come  regularly  with  food  and  to- 
bacco for  the  inhabitants.  Since  he  had  been  fairly 
successful  in  foretelling  the  weather,  the  natives  be- 
lieved in  him,  and  each  clamored  for  a  place  on  Hat 
Island.  But  the  salvation  offered  by  the  old  savage 
came  high.  Reservations  on  Hat  Island  could  be  se- 
cured only  at  the  price  of  ten  pigs  each.  Soon  the 
prophet  had  cornered  most  of  the  pigs  in  that  sec- 
tion of  Santo.  Seeing  his  power,  he  raised  the  price 
of  admission.  He  secured,  in  addition  to  the  pigs, 
the  most  desirable  women  in  the  vicinity.  In  fact,  he 
appropriated  everything  he  wanted,  and  occasion- 
ally he  ran  amok  and  killed  several  of  his  compatri- 
ots —  as  he  said,  to  put  the  fear  of  God  into  them^ 


184  CANNIBAL-LAND 

The  next  recruiter  that  came  to  Santo  was  be- 
sieged with  savages  begging  to  be  allowed  to  go  to 
work  on  copra  plantations.  He  soon  learned  that  the 
natives  had  not  suddenly  grown  industrious,  but 
that  even  work  seemed  pleasant  in  contrast  with  the 
reign  of  terror  of  the  inspired  chief.  The  chief  saw 
possibility  of  profit  in  the  desire  of  his  people  to  es- 
cape and  made  the  recruiter  pay  heavily  in  tobacco 
and  calico  for  every  native  taken  away. 

Reports  of  his  rule  had  reached  the  Government 
officers  at  Vila,  and  Commissioner  King,  who  had 
sent  for  him  several  times  to  no  avail,  had  given  me 
a  letter  to  present  to  the  old  fellow,  in  case  I  should 
go  to  Santo.  I  now  sent  word  to  the  chief  that  I  had 
an  important  message  that  could  be  delivered  only  to 
him  in  person.  To  my  surprise,  two  days  after  the 
message  had  been  delivered,  the  prophet  appeared. 

I  had  made  everything  ready  for  a  motion-picture 
show  to  entertain  my  pigmies.  Just  before  dark,  as  I 
was  testing  my  projector,  thirty  armed  natives  came 
down  the  beach.  The  dwarfs  wanted  to  run,  but  we 
made  them  understand  that  we  would  protect  them, 
and  they  huddled  behind  us,  frightened,  but  with 
perfect  faith  in  our  ability  and  readiness  to  take  care 
of  them  in  any  crisis. 


1 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  185 

The  newcomers  were  a  nasty-looking  lot.  The 
prophet,  ridiculous  in  a  singlet  and  overalls  and  a 
high  hat,  came  up  to  me  with  no  sign  of  hesitation 
and  held  out  his  hand.  I  could  distinguish  words  in 
the  greeting  he  grunted  at  me,  but  they  had  no  con- 
nection. His  eyes  were  bloodshot  and  wild,  his  lips 
were  abnormally  red,  and  he  drooled  as  he  talked. 

I  presented  Commissioner  King's  letter,  which 
was  an  imposing  document  with  a  red  official  seal. 
In  high-sounding  language  it  enjoined  the  chief  to 
give  me  and  my  party  every  possible  aid,  and  ended 
with  an  invitation  to  his  prophetic  highness  to  come 
to  Vila  on  the  Euphrosyne  the  next  time  she  passed 
that  way  and  the  promise  that  he  would  not  be 
harmed  if  he  would  do  so. 

When  the  prophet  saw  the  red  seal,  his  assurance 
fell  from  him,  and  he  rolled  his  eyes  in  terror. 

"Me  sick;  me  sick,'*  he  repeated  over  and  over.  I 
tried  to  explain  that  Commissioner  King  realized 
that  he  was  sick,  and  for  that  very  reason  wanted  to 
see  him  and  help  him,  but  I  doubt  if  he  understood 
anything  I  said. 

After  dark,  we  started  the  show.  The  dwarfs 
chattered  and  giggled  like  children,  but  our  other 
guests  were  unsmiling  and  ominously  silent.   Only 


186  CANNIBAL-LAND 

the  prophet  kept  talking.  One  of  the  boys  told  me 
afterward  that  he  was  telling  his  men  that  he  had 
sent  for  me  in  order  to  work  his  magic  through  me  — 
that  I  and  my  projector  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
pictures;  he  himself  was  responsible. 

But  halfway  through  the  performance  he  appar- 
ently began  to  doubt  his  power.  Rocking  back  and 
forth,  he  repeated  over  and  over,  "By-em-by  me 
die,  by-em-by  me  die."  He  was  looking  forward  to 
the  day  when  he  would  be  captured  and  carried  off  to 
Vila  and,  as  he  imagined,  put  to  death.  I  was  glad 
when  the  show  was  over  and  the  prophet  and  his  fol- 
lowers withdrew  for  the  night.  It  had  not  been  an 
especially  merry  evening. 

Early  next  morning  a  delegation  of  the  prophet's 
followers  sought  me  out  and  begged  me  to  take  their 
chief  by  force  to  Vila  and  have  him  hanged. 

"He  bad.  He  takem  plenty  pigs;  he  takem  plenty 
women;  he  killem  plenty  men,"  they  explained. 

I  was  sorry  for  them,  but  I  could  do  nothing.  I 
tried  to  make  them  understand  that  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  Government  and  consequently  no  au- 
thority to  arrest  a  man,  but  I  could  see  that  they  did 
not  quite  believe  me.  They  went  off  muttering  to 
themselves. 


1 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  187 

In  a  few  minutes  they  departed  with  their  chief  in 
quest  of  a  certain  kind  of  shellfish  to  be  found  about 
five  miles  up  the  beach,  and  we  decided  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  their  absence  and  visit  one  of  the  villages 
in  the  prophet's  territory. 

We  walked  for  about  three  hours  without  seeing 
any  signs  of  a  village.    Then  we  heard,  faint  in  the 
distance,  the  sound  of  a  tom-tom.    Soon  we  were 
within  hearing  of  a  chanted  song.  We  advanced  with 
caution,  until  we  reached  the  edge  of  a  village  clear- 
ing. From  behind  a  clump  of  bushes  we  could  watch 
the  natives  who  danced  there.  The  dance  was  just 
the  ordinary  native  hay-foot,  straw-foot,  around  the 
devil-devils  in  the  center  of  the  clearing,  now  slow, 
now  gradually  increasing  in  tempo  until  it  was  a  run. 
What  interested  me  was  the  feast  that  was  m 
preparation.  On  a  long  stick,  over  the  fire,  were  a 
dozen  pieces  of  meat.  More  meat  was  grilling  on  the 
embers  of  another  fire.  On  leaves  near  by  were  the 
entrails  of  the  animal  that  was  cooking.  I  do  not 
know  what  it  was  that  made  me  suspect  the  nature 
of  this  meat.  It  certainly  was  not  much  different  in 
appearance  from  pork.  But  some  sixth  sense  whis- 
pered to  me  that  it  was  not  pork. 
The  savages  had  no  suspicion  of  our  nearness.  As 


188  CANNIBAL-LAND 

a  matter  of  fact,  the  keenness  of  sight  and  hearing 
that  primitive  peoples  are  generally  credited  with 
are  entirely  lacking  in  the  New  Hebrideans.  Many 
a  time  Osa  and  I  have  quietly  crept  up  to  a  native 
village  and  stolen  away  again  without  being  detected. 
Often  on  the  trail  we  have  literally  run  into  blacks 
before  they  realized  that  we  were  approaching. 
Even  the  half -starved  native  dogs  have  lost  their 
alertness.  More  than  once  I  have  come  suddenly  on 
a  cur  and  laughed  at  him  as  he  rolled  over  backward 
in  an  attempt  to  escape.  With  the  natives  lost  in  a 
dance,  we  were  quite  safe. 

For  an  hour  we  watched  and  took  long-range 
photographs.  The  dance  continued  monotonously. 
The  meat  sizzled  slowly  over  the  fire  —  and  nothing 
happened.  Then  I  gave  one  of  the  Tongoa  boys  who 
accompanied  us  a  radium  flare  and  told  him  to  go 
into  the  clearing,  drop  the  flare  into  the  fire,  and  run 
to  one  side  out  of  the  picture.  He  did  as  I  asked  him. 
The  natives  stopped  dancing  and  watched  him  as  he 
approached.  He  threw  the  flare  into  the  fire  and 
jumped  aside.  As  they  stooped  down  close  to  the 
flame  to  see  what  he  had  thrown  there,  the  flare  took 
fire  and  sent  its  blinding  white  light  into  their  faces. 
With  a  yell  they  sprang  back  and  ran  in  terror  di- 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  189 

rectly  toward  us.  When  they  saw  us,  they  stopped 
so  quickly  that  they  ahnost  tumbled  backward. 
Then  they  turned  and  ran  in  the  opposite  direction. 
The  half -minute  flare  had  burned  out;  so  they 
grabbed  the  meat  from  the  fire  and  carried  it  with 
them  into  the  bush. 

My  boys  sprang  into  the  clearing.  I,  with  my 
camera  on  my  shoulder,  was  just  behind  them. 
When  I  came  up  to  them,  they  were  standing  by  the 
fire,  looking  at  the  only  remnant  of  the  feast  that 
was  left  on  the  embers.  It  was  a  charred  human 
head,  with  rolled  leaves  plugging  the  eye-sockets. 

I  had  proved  what  I  had  set  out  to  prove  —  that 
cannibalism  is  still  practiced  in  the  South  Seas.  I 
was  so  happy  that  I  yelled.  After  photographing  the 
evidence,  I  wrapped  the  head  carefully  in  leaves,  to 
take  away  with  me.  We  picked  the  fire  over,  but 
could  find  no  other  remainder  of  the  gruesome  feast. 
In  one  of  the  huts,  however,  we  discovered  a  quan- 
tity of  human  hair,  laid  out  on  a  green  leaf,  to  be 
made  into  ornaments. 

Some  of  the  cannibals  returned  and,  from  a  dis- 
tance, watched  us  search  their  huts.  I  then  took 
their  pictures.  They  grinned  into  the  camera,  as  in- 
nocent as  children. 


190  CANNIBAL-LAND 

We  arrived  at  the  beach  a  little  after  dark.  Pow- 
ler  had  shot  some  pigeons,  fried  their  breasts,  and 
made  a  soup  from  the  remainder,  and  he  had  cut 
down  a  coconut  tree  and  made  a  salad  of  the  heart. 
We  did  full  justice  to  the  meal.  After  it  was  over,  we 
sat  and  admired  the  roasted  head  —  at  least  I  ad- 
mired it.  Osa  did  not  think  much  of  it.  As  for 
Powler,  he  tried  in  vain  to  conceal  that  he  thought 
me  absolutely  crazy  to  care  so  much  about  an  old 
charred  head. 

The  next  day,  while  I  was  printing  pictures  on  the 
beach,  a  delegation  of  cannibals  appeared  on  the 
scene.  They  were  good-natured  and  friendly.  I 
showed  them  a  big  mirror.  It  was  apparently  the 
first  they  had  ever  seen.  They  were  awed  and  puz- 
zled, touching  the  glass  with  cautious  fingers  and 
looking  behind  the  mirror  suddenly,  to  surprise  who- 
ever might  be  fooling  them.  I  photographed  them 
as  they  peered  at  their  reflection  and  grimaced  like 
a  bunch  of  monkeys.  We  invited  them  to  luncheon. 
Their  favorite  dish  of  "long  pig"  was  not  on  the  bill 
of  fare.  But  they  ate  our  trade  salmon  and  biscuits 
with  gusto  and  smacked  their  lips  over  the  coffee 
that  Osa  made  for  them  —  the  first  they  had  ever 
tasted.   They  remained  with  us  until  the  following 


A  CANNIBAL  FEAST  191 

day,  when  we  picked  up  our  apparatus  and  sailed  qflf 
on  the  first  lap  of  our  journey  home. 

In  seven  months  in  the  New  Hebrides  I  had  ex- 
posed twenty -five  thousand  feet  of  film,  and  had,  be- 
sides, about  a  thousand  "stills."  I  was  well  satisfied 
with  my  work;  for  I  knew  that  my  pictures  would 
help  the  Western  world  to  realize  the  life  lived  by  the 
fast-disappearing  primitive  races  of  the  earth;  and  I 
had  actual  evidence  —  my  long-range  photographs 
and  the  charred  head  that  I  so  carefully  cherished  — 
that  cannibalism  is  still  practiced  in  the  islands  of  the 
South  Seas. 


THE  END 


LD  2 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desl<  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 
or  to  the 
NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


'^^^51999 


jAN  2 1 200 


JUNA11999 


12,000(11/95) 


TU    H0b07. 


